#but also who knows like spent plenty of time just probably indeed Not having to have such exchanges while burned out. not noting them

[unproduciblesmackdown]

(genderly) chill as hell if i was only ever glimpsed / detected like this

[bbsmuts]

Career Advice ft. Miss A Suzy & AOA Seolhyun

A/N: I have a few notes before I start this one, first and foremost being that I got plenty of DMs after Special Fanmeet telling me the shock play was well done and it was a good addition to the smut, so I'll be incorporating some of that into more smuts in the future. My readers (as well as myself) have made it clear that they're into dom/sub dynamics, ownership kinks, and all that kind of stuff, so I'll be incorporating that a bit more. You're welcome, ya kinky bastards.

Is this very, very late? Yes. Is it very much overdue? Indeed it is. But will it be very good due to how much time I've had it a a draft? Probably also yes. Maybe. I don't have time to proofread things, so I never know.

This is a pitch from @phoenixwolf (who's been quite patient and a pleasure to work with), which is a pretty unique idea I've never seen before. It'll be quite a bit different from all my others, since the main character isn't in any kind of relationship with the idols. I'm doing a bit (well, in some parts a lot) of modification with how being an idol works and the perks that come with it, since to be quite honest I don't really know how it works and I need to make it fit the story better. So take note of that throughout the story whenever I mention something that probably isn't a thing irl. I have to use Y/N with this one because there's no way I can write it without using a name for the main character, which I don't do.

But after very much procrastination and too much time spent as a draft, it's here. I'm not at all used to writing a more tentative, maybe sub-ish character, so Seolhyun's noona kink solo might be iffy. And also just pretend that Suzy and Seolhyun are in the same group/under the same agency (Kakao) for the purposes of the smut. Also my first time writing a daddy kink. It's probably just about the same as a sir kink.

Point is, this one might be iffy.

-상훈

Length: 5.81k

Possible TW: Just about nothing, just a noona kink for Seolhyun and a daddy kink for Suzy. And of course my trademark, a sprinkle of light spanking/choking.

Tags: Threesome, cunnilingus, blowjob, dom/sub, daddy kink, noona kink, choking, spanking, fingering, face riding

It was just another one of those days; sitting, waiting outside a businesswoman's office waiting to be talked to. The small plaque on the dark mahogany door read "Kim Seolhyun, Ace of Angels". The plush chair I sat on had to be the best office guest chair I'd ever sat on, predictably enough considering where I was.

Explanation time.

My name is Y/N, and I'm a week away from debuting as the next global K-pop superstar. Or at least, that's what everyone around me is saying. I'm 19, and very new to the bustling, jolting, lively atmosphere of the agency's headquarters. I'm not even completely sure of everything that's going on. I auditioned for Kakao Entertainment when I was 15 and almost immediately got a callback from them. I performed two more auditions beyond the initial one and was accepted as a trainee with high praise from judges. I signed my trainee contract and trained for 4 years, during which they touched up on my singing, rapping, dance skills, physique, modeling sagacity, and overall competence as a future idol, all of which they had described to already be near perfect. From the day I arrived on Kakao's doorstep, I had been told I was going to be the next global K-pop sensation. And now I'm a week away from debuting as a massive solo artist.

To say I'm nervous is a little bit of an understatement.

The reason why I'm here is to talk with former and current idols to orient me into what it's going to be like. I've already had conversations with a few notable ones, and now I'm outside Seolhyun's office. I've also been told Bae Suzy is here to see me, which is something I'm excited for. Suzy has been one of my favorite idols since I was really young. ___

"Mr. L/N?" Seolhyun's secretary spoke in a soft voice. "She's ready for you."

I stood up, and with a deep breath and a small adjustment of my tie, pushed open the door.

To my slight surprise, Suzy was already in the room, sitting with Seolhyun behind the desk.

Suzy gestured me in, and I took a seat in front of the desk. It was very well-organized and neat.

"Hi, Y/N." said Seolhyun. "I'm Kim Seolhyun, and this is��"

"I know who you are." I said.

She smiled warmly. "Then introductions aren't necessary, are they?"

I chuckled. "No, they aren't. I requested to meet you specifically."

Suzy smirked. "That's refreshing. Well, it's very nice to meet you, Y/N."

Seolhyun nodded.

"It's a pleasure." I replied, shaking both of their hands.

"No, the pleasure is ours." said Suzy. "It's not often we get to meet the next K-pop superstar pre-debut, is it? Especially when he's so hot~"

Seolhyun hit Suzy on the arm lightly. "Stop, isn't it too soon for that?"

"It's never too soon."

I smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, Suzy. Can I call you Suzy?"

"Yes, of course."

"So," I said, preparing to ask the list of questions I had prepared in my head. "What's the lifestyle like, being an idol?"

...

"–so basically, to sum up that point, don't fall out of line. Not publicly." Seolhyun finished.

"Unless, of course, you feel a little bit more daring, like me." Suzy threw a wink my way. "Media goes crazy for a bit of controversy."

Seolhyun rolled her eyes. "It's a daring move, but your publicity will skyrocket over a scandal. Suzy would know all about that."

Suzy grinned. "Nothing like watching your fans start World War III on social media because you didn't wear safety shorts."

Seolhyun chuckled. "Some, like Suzy, like to rock the boat a little. And it's good for publicity; the media likes a daring figure."

"So you're telling me I should cross the line a bit from time to time?" I asked.

"Yes." Suzy replied immediately.

"Not necessarily," corrected Seolhyun, side-eyeing Suzy, "it depends on what kind of idol you are to the public. But a tiny scandal here and there does keep you in the headlines, whether that be a good thing or a bad thing."

"Ok," I said slowly, "that makes sense. Other than that, what can I do to start off with a bang?"

"You?" Seolhyun said. "You might not even need any of that. I mean, they said they could have debuted you without training. They said they were considering cutting your training short and debuting you early."

"Of course, that's when funds had dipped a lot," Suzy added, "but that's not important. What's important is that they were seriously considering doing it, which never happens."

"So that either means you're already going down Suzy's route, or you're one hell of a potential." said Seolhyun.

"It's the latter."

"Yeah, I figured. All the talk around here has been about you since you started training. All the higher-ups and execs have been super excited because you'll be bringing in a lot of revenue."

"Which automatically makes you a high priority, especially once you actually start making them money." Suzy carried on. "Low-profit artists and groups are lower priority. You? You'll be pretty much as high priority as it gets, which means you can exploit it. Use it to your advantage."

"However you want to use it, bear in mind the fact that they are relying on you for profit. Of course, if you get too cocky, there's always consequences, but as long as you keep in mind the firm boundaries, you're all good."

"Okay," I said, "so I can push my luck a little, just don't overdo it."

"Exactly." Suzy replied. "You're a fast learner. And I'd advise you to wait to exercise that prioritization for a little while until they've gotten a good idea of what kind of idol you're going to be, what kind of profits you'll make them. If you do it too early, they might think early on that you're going to give them a hard time."

"And if that happens?"

"Don't know. Contract termination at the very most, but I doubt they'd do that. But they can make your life hell if they want to."

"Okay, got it. What else?"

"Well..." The two of them thought about it, and then Seolhyun spoke up. "You could try Suzy's approach..."

"Which is?" I prompted.

"Sucking a lot of music producer dick." Suzy laughed.

Her reply took me be surprise, but I barely reacted. "Yeah, I'm afraid I won't be sucking any dick on my way up."

Suzy chortled. "I don't mean that, dummy. But there happen to be a lot of female employees, execs, bosses, producers...I'm not saying do what I did, but all I'll say is...it'll get you in the good books."

"And considering what you have to offer..." Seolhyun added, unconsciously licking her lips as her eyes trailed down me.

Despite myself, I felt my cheeks go a bit red. "Thanks, noona."

She blushed a little and giggled.

Suzy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Don't get her started, Y/N."

"What?"

"Seolhyun has a thing for being called that. Like, a big thing."

"Oh." I said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be." She smirked. "In fact, that brings us to our next point, in a roundabout way."

"What's your next point?"

"If, as I advise you, you walk my path, play to your higher-up's kinks. Obviously they'll like it anyway it and therefore you'll be in the good books, but if you play to their kinks, it's like an automatic figurative promotion. I remember one time when I was dealing with this one exec who had a mommy kink–"

"Yeah, yeah, we don't need to hear that one." Seolhyun interrupted. "Don't put him off before he even debuts."

"I'm not into that mommy shit, but I can play along to just about anything." The implications of my sentence were not missed by the two of them.

"Oh, can you?" Seolhyun's voice was suddenly lower, quieter. The two exchanged a knowing look, one that spoke more than a book full of words. "What do you think, unnie?"

Suzy nodded at her and looked back at me.

"We'd like to offer you a special...orientation program." Her voice took on the same tone.

"Oh?" My thoughts ran wilder. "And what would such a program entail?"

"Oh, you know..." Seolhyun trailed off as they both rose from their chairs. "Suzy's route."

"Yeah, we'll be sure to tell the execs how good you are...if you're good." They approached.

My pants were feeling uncomfortably tight at that moment, and it did not go unnoticed by them.

"Ooh, he's liking that idea." The two of them moved closer, their thighs rubbing against mine, hands caressing my arms. I was suddenly very aware of Suzy's tiny skirt, Seolhyun's short shorts. "Let's see what we're working with here."

Shrugging out of my blazer as Suzy pulled on it from behind me, I rid myself of the extra layer and loosened my tie. Suzy's hands unbuttoned the buttons on my shirt one by one all the way down and pulled the bottom of it out of my waistband, leaving it on me.

"Oh~" Seolhyun's eyes widened. "He's quite the specimen, unnie."

I flexed my abs and arms for her benefit, and she bit her lip with lust in her eyes. "Can't wait to give this one a test ride, mmm..."

Suzy unbuckled my belt from behind me and slipped it out of its hoops, allowing Seolhyun to slide my pants down my legs and off my Oxford-clad feet.

"Looks like Y/N has a big thing too, unnie...damn."

Suzy came back around to have a look, and she smirked, nodding in approval.

"Nice, now that's a body that's had a hell of a lot of work put into it. And a massive cock, too..."

My face was going red again. "Thank you."

Seolhyun straddled me, sitting comfortably on the straining bulge of my boxers, barely concealing the gasp that left her lips when it rubbed her through her shorts. "Ah, enough niceties, let's get to your orientation."

"One at a time or same time?" asked Suzy.

"One at a time, then both, I wanna see what this kid can do first."

Suzy opened the door and disappeared, leaving me and Seolhyun alone.

Her voice dropped to a growl as she leaned into my ear, slowly rocking her hips on me, pulling my face closer to hers by the tie. "You said you can play along, hm?"

"Uh, yeah, I did."

She pulled back a little, her expression half eagerness and half interest. "Then make sure you do."

With a flourish she stripped off her small top, a sexy lace bra the only thing between me and her full breasts.

"Mm, you like what you see baby?"

"Yes..." I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"Hmm?" She raised her eyebrows, the grinding coming to a sudden halt.

"Y-yes, noona."

She smiled and resumed her grinding. "Good."

Something in her tone turned me on, more than the pleasure of her grating her hips on me. Usually I had a slight leaning towards being a dom, but something about her dominant aura pushed me towards the other end of the spectrum.

She got off me and slipped her shorts down her legs, straightening up to reveal her tiny little thong, which left absolutely nothing to the imagination. I caught my breath, cock now furiously straining against the thin fabric of my boxers. She slid back onto me, two millimeters of cloth the only thing keeping her heat off me.

"Can I touch you, noona?"

She moaned quietly at the sensation she was causing herself, and nodded. Her eyes closed and she bit her lip as I reached up and caressed her breasts over the thin lace fabric, pinching her nipples. I slipped a finger under her thong and rubbed her clit.

"Ooh, yes, just like that," she cooed. "You sure know what you're doing, had practice?"

"Yes, noona." I fingered her harder and took my hand off her breast and moved it to her ass, squeezing a moan out of her. She reached up and fondled her own breasts, and she allowed me to reach behind her and unclasp the bra, unleashing her treasures.

I took off my own shirt as she leaned her face down and kissed me, the gyrations starting to get more needy.

"F-fuck, I want you, Y/N." Her breath came out shaky as she found the perfect spot to grind on and jumped on it, increasing the speed of her movements.

I pushed my boxers down past my thighs and finally freed myself, and she gasped. "Oh my god, you're so big..."

She quickly rid herself of her thong and returned to my lap, lining me up with her entrance and slowly sinking down, suppressing a whimper as she felt herself being filled up. I stretched her out inch by inch until her crotch met my base. Her head fell back and she took a second to adjust, before she started to bounce on top of me. My cock was driven in and out of her tight tunnel, and it was overwhelming. She must not've had anyone in a while because she was certainly the tightest I'd ever had. She clenched around me on purpose on the way down, forcing a groan out of my mouth.

"Does it feel good sweetie?"

I didn't answer immediately, mind lost in the sensations she was causing me. Her thin hand slipped around my neck, not gripping but making her assertion clear.

"Does it feel good?" Her voice dropped a little lower.

"Yes, noona."

Her smile returned. "Good."

I pressed a finger to her clit, and moved it up and down in time with her bouncing. She kept kneading her own tits, moaning and squealing adorably.

"Fuck, noona, you're tight!" The pleasure was too good, she was going to make me cum. "So tight!"

"I know, hold on baby." She purred. "Don't cum yet."

Doing so was difficult, but I managed to stave off the impending orgasm and let her keep spearing her pussy on me. I brought my hand down on her ass, making her yelp, and she bounced harder, raising her eyebrows.

"Now now, let's – ahh – control ourselves, hmm?"

"Yes, s-sorry noona."

Seolhyun suppressed another cry and gripped my shoulders, humping into me with barely controlled lust.

"Such a nice dick, big and hard for me, yeah?"

I only moaned in reply, meeting her bounces with thrusts, jabbing deeper into her. She clenched around me harder in an involuntary response, failing to muffle her yells on each thrust.

"Noona," I groaned, "what about the–fuck–secretary? Won't she-"

"No, she won't."

I inwardly shrugged and thrusted harder, teetering dangerously on the verge of cumming inside her.

"Fuck, I can't hold on," I gripped her hips and pulled her down, jabbing into her. "Should I pull out?"

"No," she murmured, her eyebrows contracting. "Cum inside me!"

Unable to stave it off any longer, I felt that rush of pleasure, the tensing of my entire body. Her eyes flew open and she gasped at the first spurt. She rode it out until she'd taken every last drop from me, and then relaxed her body. Our heavy breaths eventually slowed, and she got off me and quickly got dressed.

"Fuck, you're good. You'll have no trouble in that area, no trouble at all. Rest up, Suzy will want her turn. And get at least partially dressed, she'll want to strip you too." She paused for a moment. "She's the exact opposite of me in the bedroom. She likes to be dominated."

I smirked widely. "Oh, I don't think I'll have any trouble with that."

She returned the smirk. "Neither do I. Well, have fun..."

I heard the sound of a door opening and shutting behind me, and two female voices outside for a few seconds. I pulled on my pants, got out of the chair, and leaned against it, facing the door. The door opened and Suzy sidled in, hands clasped in front of her. She bit her lip when she caught sight of me, and I got off the desk.

I let her take her time approaching, her hips subtly swaying with each step. She reached me and slid a hand over my bare chest, a small and shy smile on her face. Her demeanor had completely changed, something I was more than willing to take advantage of.

I snaked my hand up her chest and fastened it around her neck. She gasped and bit her lip again, leaning into me. I turned her around and pushed her against the desk, my other hand slithering to her skirt and pulling it up. She moaned as I slipped my hand into her black panties and slowly rubbed her slit.

"Mmm," she whimpered, "ohh yes, that's good..."

"Yeah, you like that baby?"

"Mmhmm," she replied in a high pitched tone, nodding eagerly with her eyes closed. I tightened my grip on her neck, and she inhaled sharply.

"What was that?"

"Yes, daddy..."

"Good girl." I growled in her ear, fingering her harder, and her breathing got faster and heavier.

"Daddy it feels so good," she moaned, then cried out at me circling her clit with my thumb. "Oh please daddy, harder!"

I slipped two fingers into her pussy and moved them around slowly, curling them down into her g-spot. She clutched my arm and took in a deep, shaky breath, mouth falling open.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum!"

"Do it," I muttered, busy at work on her pussy. "Cum for me."

"Ohh fuck, faster, please!" I obliged, moving faster and strumming her spots like the strings of a guitar. Her body trembled and her walls clenched around me, almost crushing my fingers. I slipped a third inside her and pushed, now knuckle deep. But I wasn't about to let her cum so quick, I had much more to do to her.

Suzy's eyes had rolled back by the time I pulled my fingers out, and she'd fallen silent in nearly orgasmic bliss. She looked down at my drenched and motionless fingers and immediately put on adorable puppy eyes.

"Please let me cum, daddy," she begged submissively. "Please, I need to cum..."

"Oh, you need to?"

"Yes, daddy, I do..."

I turned her around and bent her over the desk, then resumed my fingering at a much slower pace. She bucked her hips back into my outstretched fingers, whining needily.

"Faster, please!" She pleaded. "I need to cum, please daddy, let me cum, harder, please..."

I slapped her ass and she yelped, clenching around me again. "Be quiet."

"Yes, daddy."

I did pick up the pace a little, and employed my thumb to rub her clit, continuing the spanks since I noticed she enjoyed it. I was feeling an increasing desire to take my pants off and pound her senseless, but I wanted to make her cum with just my fingers first. And I was very, very close to doing so, judging by her facial and vocal expressions.

"So–good–yes–please–cumming!" Her pleas had spiraled into unintelligible babble as she got closer to her climax. "Harder–fuck–gonna cum!"

My shoulder was beginning to feel sore from the exertion I was putting it through, but I ignored it and kept pumping into her, paying special attention to her more sensitive areas and driving her insane with pleasure. Every stroke brought her closer to her release, and finally it was too much for her.

"OH F-FUCK!" Body trembling and writhing, Suzy orgasmed with a loud cry, her juices gushing out over my fingers. Her pussy tensed and spasmed uncontrollably on them.

Noticing her legs wobbling dangerously, I held her up and helped her into the chair. Her face was flushed red and stray strands of hair were sticking to her sweat-sheened forehead.

"D-daddy..." she whimpered, giving me the puppy eyes again, "I want you..."

I rid myself of my pants and boxers and approached her, seeing arousal flare in her eyes at the sight of me.

"Give me your dick, daddy." She sat up and reached forward, grasping my now-hard cock.

I reached down and pulled her hands off. "Hands to yourself, baby girl. Get on your knees."

"Yes, daddy."

She knelt in front of me, and I grabbed her head by her hair and pulled it forward, guiding my cock into her mouth.

"Mmph!" She raised her hands to my thighs and gave them a small nip as my shaft slid down her tight, squeezing throat.

She gagged a bit and struggled, but didn't tap out, instead massaging the underside of my cock with her tongue.

"Mm, such a good girl," I said, twirling her hair around my fingers and pulling her deeper. "Such a good little slut for me."

One of her hands left my leg and I heard an obscene squelch, combined with a moan into my dick. She was getting turned on by the little bit of dirty talk already.

"A stupid little whore, aren't you?" I continued, flinging out whatever dirty names I could fish up from memory of past sub girls. "Just a dirty slut."

She nodded and moaned again, her arm working more furiously beneath her skirt. I gritted my teeth and let my head tip back.

"Fuck, that feels good," I felt her self-pleased smile against my base. "Keep going, baby girl."

She choked and a little saliva ran down her chin, closely followed by a tear from her effort. She took the other hand off my leg and started caressing her own breast, eyes rolling in her head at the pleasure she was giving herself.

Her lower face was slowly becoming a mess of tears mixing with saliva from her sloppy blowjob. The mess she was making of herself clearly turned her on. From what little I could see of the face that was buried in my crotch, her eyebrows were turned up, I could feel her jaw starting to go slack. I gripped her hair harder and thrust my hips harder, drawing nearer to my own orgasm. But I wasn't going to cum before I'd fucked her, so I semi-reluctantly pulled out of her throat. She sat back and caught her breath for a moment before she stood up and bent over the desk, wiggling her ass enticingly.

I pushed into her with absolutely no hesitation, and she was wet enough that I didn't need to play with her any more. She was even tighter than Seolhyun, and I put my hand over her mouth to suppress her loud moan.

"Shhh." I murmured, and let go of her mouth. "Keep that pretty little mouth quiet."

I started thrusting into her, fast and steady. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk and she gritted her teeth to keep from making noise. I reached forward and grabbed her hair, forming it into a rough ponytail and pulling her head back.

"Daddy, it's too good, I can't hold b-back," she moaned, biting her lip. "You're so big, fuck..."

I fucked her faster, the desk creaking a little under the repeated motion. I could tell she was trying her best to keep herself from crying out, but I also knew it was coming.

"F-fuck, I can't...I can't...keep...quiet..."

She was shaking with suppressed pleasure and bucking her hips back on me. I slapped her ass, making her squeal, and pulled on her hair harder. Her tight hole compressed around my cock like it was made for me, the perfect balance between ease and resistance. I pushed two of my fingers on my other hand into her mouth, and she started sucking on them, moaning quietly.

"Give me more, please, daddy," she murmured, voice barely audible. "Faster, please...nghh yes keep going!"

My hips smacked against her thick ass with each thrust, the claps reverberating around the small room. I took my hand away from her mouth and brought it down to her clit, rubbing circles and pressing down, making the volume increase dramatically.

"Didn't I tell you to stay quiet?" I smacked her ass again.

"A-ah! Yes, daddy, I'm s-sorry!"

"Good." I resumed my fingering, making her whimper in her effort. It only took a few seconds of determined caressing of her clit to bring her resolve crumbing down once more.

"Fuck! It's so good daddy, please don't stop! Yes, yes, yes, more!"

I pulled out of her pussy and spanked her plump ass again. "Guess you're getting punished, baby girl."

"No, please! Please don't stop, I'm so close!" She desperately bucked her hips, trying to get me to fuck her again.

I didn't reply, but hauled her onto the desk and spread her legs, reaching forward to choke her. She gasped at the sensation of my head pressing into her pussy again, but nodded after a moment.

I snapped my hips forward and, due to how slick my cock was from her slick, easily pushed most of my length into her, drawing a guttural groan from her. She looked at me with pleading eyes, her expression indicating just how needy she was.

"Fuck my pussy hard, daddy," she breathed, "pound me like I'm your little slut."

"You are my little slut." I gripped her neck tighter and started my thrusts at a slower pace, still powerful. "Understood?"

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl."

She shuddered and moaned, eyes rolling back in her head as I fucked her.

"Ohh yes, that feels so good..." she whined, hands still clutching the table's edge. "God yes, please keep going..."

"Shut up." I said "This is your punishment, remember?"

"Mmhmm!" She nodded vigorously. "It's my–fuck–punishment..."

I spanked her ass again and drove my cock into her faster. This hadn't been what I'd expected when I'd come in here, but I certainly wasn't complaining about the outcome.

"I'm gonna cum," I growled in her ear. "And you're going to take it all like a good girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy," she gasped, her walls tightening around me as she bucked her hips. "I want all your cum in me!"

Her words sent me over the edge, and with a groan I buried myself inside her pussy and exploded, firing my hot cum deep into her womb. A rush of pleasure flowed through me, sending the feeling everywhere from my fingers to my toes. My muscles tightened and contracted, involuntarily sending my hips into her ass again. She jerked and trembled as the waves of orgasmic pleasure overtook her too, a powerful jet of cum spraying me.

"Fuck, daddy, yes!" She screamed, back arching. "S-so fucking good, yes!"

I pulled out of her pussy and collapsed back into the chair, sufficiently tired out for the time being. Her legs relaxed and fell into a resting position, and she slumped back and laid down.

...

It was a little while before either of us found the energy to do much other than pant and sit there resting. I heard the door creak open, looked over the top of the chair, and saw half of Seolhyun's grinning face peeking through the small opening.

"Yes?"

She smiled wider and closed the door, eyes raking over Suzy's slumped and naked form before doing so. I stood up and pushed the chair aside, went to and opened the door, and gestured Seolhyun in.

"You up for another round?" She asked immediately.

"Hell yes. Think Suzy's out, though."

"I want to ride your face." Her words were clear and decisive. I was entirely okay with that, so I laid down on my back on the carpeted floor. She then stripped off the large nightshirt she'd covered with and stood over my face, giving me an incredible view of everything she had to give. With no further ado she lowered her pussy onto my awaiting mouth and started grinding. I had a perfect visual of her softly whining and caressing her own breasts as she rubbed her slit against my tongue, which was prodding, swiping, and licking any part of her that was sensitive. She let out soft moans, moving her hips back and forth and pleasuring herself on my mouth.

As I was busy eating her out, I heard a creak from the desk and soft footsteps on the plush carpet. A minute later, Suzy's hands slid over my thighs and my cock was suddenly enveloped in a warmth which I could only assume to be her mouth. I groaned into Seolhyun's pussy and kept up my exertions, very quickly pushing her to her climax.

"Oh, fuck, just like that baby," she moaned, biting her lip and closing her eyes. Her eyebrows contracted as I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue. "Oh yes, I'm gonna cum!"

I worked my tongue harder, pushing into her entrance firmly. She shuddered and her legs tensed around my head, a sure sign of her approaching orgasm.

"Oh, you're so good at this, fuck! Oh god yes yes, don't stop!" I smirked, my ego stroked, and bucked my own hips a little into Suzy's mouth. Her tongue disappeared from my shaft momentarily and then something much wetter, much tighter pressed down on it. I let my head fall back a little as she impaled her warm, throbbing pussy on my cock, the pleasure doubling. I heard a loud cry from behind Seolhyun and I automatically started thrusting up into her.

For several minutes more, Suzy fucked me and I tonguefucked Seolhyun. She had been reduced to mindless pleas for more, body on autopilot as she gyrated her hips on my face. I was apparently way better with my tongue than I thought, and it was only a few more seconds before all three of us reached our peaks at the same time.

I went first, blowing up her pussy with a deluge of hot jizz that triggered her to cum; her warm juices splattered my abs and ran down my sides. Seolhyun's grinding sped up exponentially and then with a scream she met her orgasm. Her cum squirted into my waiting mouth and she fell back into Suzy's lap with an exhausted moan. We all stayed there for a moment more, basking in the after-orgasm bliss, before a notification pinged Seolhyun's phone. She picked it up, read the message, and scoffed. I looked up and could make out a text from one of her superiors:

"Having fun?"

She looked over at the security camera in the corner and gave it a sarcastic wave before putting down her phone and getting up. She dressed again quickly and left.

Suzy stood up clumsily a second later, a small trickle of my cum falling onto my abs. She too got dressed and left, leaving me alone in Seolhyun's office. I stood up, wiped my own cum off my abs with a paper towel, and put my boxers and pants back on. From what I could hear outside, one of the superiors had come down to see what was going on, judging by the voices outside.

"–yes, he was amazing. He knows his stuff." Seolhyun's voice said.

"Suzy?" said a male voice.

"Yes, he's such a good dom, he's so sexy and confident..." She said.

"Good, good. Yet another attribute we can add to the list of perfections. He's sure to be a hit soon enough."

I smiled and pulled away from the door, ego points going through the roof right about then. The conversation continued for a couple more minutes, then the door opened and one of my managers came in, dressed in a suit and tie.

"Ah, Y/N." He said briskly. "If you'll be so kind as to put on a shirt, you've been requested by one of your producers. He wants to talk about your title track, something about the lead sounds on the track. I really have no idea what the issue is, but he said he needs you right away."

I pulled my shirt over my head and refastened my tie around it, leaving the blazer on the chair. "He's been fussing about that for about a week. Might as well go see what we can improve."

"Thank you. Now, if you'll follow me..."

I followed him out the door and into the hall, where Suzy and Seolhyun were both standing, still flushed red. I threw Suzy a wink as I passed and she blushed harder, giggling. A satisfied smirk back on my face and confidence swelling within me, I followed the manager down the hall towards the studio, feeling that things could only go well from here.

[camels-pen]

a gift (not a burden)

summary:

Usopp knows who his soulmate is, but he doesn't want to follow some bullshit rules of fate etched into his skin.

Meanwhile, Sanji's a hopeless romantic.

—

second gift exchange fic! this is also for @redriotinggg & i've got some extra notes about their soulmarks i'm probably gonna share at some point

warning: internalized homophobia

Ao3 Link | Chapter 2

Chapter 1: I love you, my friend

“Soulmarks: a way of finding your perfect romantic match. Depending on where it’s placed, the meaning changes—”

“So?” Usopp said, colouring the mane of his fish-lion drawing.

“So,”—Ms. Okra ripped the paper away and he made a noise of protest—“yours is very important, Usopp.”

Usopp sighed, slumping forward on the table. Ms. Okra kept talking about more dumb soulmate facts while Usopp tried to remember her real name. She always bragged that she got the nickname ‘Ms. Okra’ because she sold the best okra in the village, but Usopp’s heard the other adults make fun of her hairdo plenty of times to know the truth.

“Are you even listening?!”

Usopp groaned. “Who cares about soulmates?”

“This is serious, Usopp,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “You have to make sure to find yours soon—”

“Because you don’t wanna come up the hill anymore?”

Ms. Okra stuttered, “Well—I—”

“I didn’t ask you to babysit me,” he grumbled, rolling his broken crayon across the table. “I was doing just fine before the mayor made you guys check up on me. I’m 7 and a half; I’m basically an adult!”

Ms. Okra rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying, you could stand to make a few friends. There are some nice boys and girls who visit on passing ships sometimes—”

Usopp blew raspberries. “You just wanna get rid o’ me. Prolly to steal all the legendary gold I’ve got hidden away.” He grinned. “Did I ever tell you? I went to a famous island made of cheese and—”

“Son of a pirate, indeed,” she whispered, rubbing the bridge of her nose. It sounded like any other curse she’d yelled at him from her shop window.

Usopp gripped his crayon tightly. “He’s gonna come back.” He glared at her. “And he’s not gonna be happy when I tell him what you said.”

“Oh please, if that coward was going to come back, he would’ve done it before Banchina—”

Usopp snatched his drawing and ran out the door. 

“Usopp! Usopp, get back here; we haven’t finished the lesson!” Ms. Okra shouted. “What would your mother say?!”

His mom would be proud of him for sticking up for himself and his dad. And she wouldn’t be so pushy about soulmates. Her mark was in the same spot as Usopp’s, after all, and look what happened.

Usopp spent the night holed up in a cave by the beach, his fish-lion crushed to his chest. The breeze whistled a lonely tune through the stone and sand. He buried his face in his knees and tried to ignore it.

—

Vinsmokes aren’t supposed to get soulmarks, his father sneered.

It’s like an ugly tattoo, his brothers jeered.

Make sure no one sees it, Reiju warned.

“Sanji,” his mother said, a warm look in her eyes, “it’s beautiful.”

“Really?” he asked, curled up next to her in bed. “Everyone else hates it.”

“Really, baby.” She tucked a stray hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry about everyone else; how does it make you feel?”

“Hmm.” Sanji traced each line of his mark with his finger. He smiled. “It makes me feel really warm and good! Like when I eat soup!”

His mom pressed a kiss to his temple and he giggled. “Then, mon chouchou, that’s all that matters.”

“But—But what if they don’t like me, maman?” He sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m really bad at everything and I’m whiny and—”

His mom shushed him and pulled him closer. “Don’t listen to Judge and your brothers, okay? You are perfect just as you are. Your soulmate is going to love you.”

“Can you come with me when I meet them?” Sanji hastily added, “W-When you get better, I mean! And—And when I’m older and not as much of a baby!”

His mom took a sharp breath. She buried her face in his hair, the sheets rustling as she tugged him to her chest. “Of course, mon coeur,” she said, her voice sounding odd and muffled. “I’d love to be with you when you meet them.”

—

Usopp’s soulmark was a tiny little thing. Blue waves and a chef’s hat with a spiral pattern all inside a glass bottle. It was barely the size of his fingernail.

Mrs. Barb’s soulmark stretched across her whole back. A big green boar with curly white tusks and yellow flowers for eyes. Mrs. Barb’s tanktop couldn’t even cover it all.

“Rue!” Ms. Okra yelled, her voice easily louder than the sound of Mrs. Barb’s hammering. “You better not be fixing the display stand when I told you to rest!”

“Nope! No fixing here!” Ms. Okra stomped down the street as Mrs. Barb hastily put away her tools and kicked the box under the porch. She and Mrs. Barb whispered something to each other. Mrs. Barb said something that made Ms. Okra burst into laughter and smack her shoulder. Mrs. Barb put an arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Don’t get too close, Captain, or they might spot you.” Pepper pulled on the back of  Usopp’s shirt. “C’mon, let’s find Onion and Carrot, they’re still hiding!”

“R-Right! I was just trying to test my limits today.” He grinned. “Gotta practice my famous stealth techniques or I might get rusty!” 

“But I found you first…?” Pepper said, confused.

Usopp turned Pepper around and ushered him further down the alley towards the mouth of the forest. “Of course, of course, but that’s just because I was going easy on you, just wait until next time when I—”

—

“I almost had it!”

“Sure you did, kid!” Patty laughed around the cigarette in his mouth. “Maybe next time you’ll hit the target!” He laughed again, slapping the railing.

Sanji whirled on him. “Fuck off!”

“Hey! Watch your fucking language!”

“You need to bend your knees more,” Zeff called from the kitchen, his voice drifting out from the open door.

“You didn’t even see it!” Sanji yelled back.

“Didn’t have to. I could hear your dainty little steps from here.”

“They aren’t dainty.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Sanji scoffed. “Whatever.” He swiped Patty’s cigarette and ran back inside, giggling while the man chased after him.

“Give that back you brat!” Patty knocked into a rolling cart piled with dirty plates. Carne scrambled to catch them with a curse. 

“Patty!” Zeff shouted. “Quit fucking around and harassing the Eggplant. Either finish your shitty break or get to work!”

“Ugh, dad to the rescue.”

Sanji flushed. “He’s—I mean—he’s okay, but he’s still just a shitty geezer.” There was a smarting pain to his head and Sanji squatted down with a hiss. “What’d you kick me for?!”

“I may be a geezer, but I ain’t shitty.” There was another thud, followed by a deeper hiss. Louder, Zeff said, “And I ain’t your dad, Patty, so get to fucking work.”

“Aye aye, Owner Zeff,” he grumbled.

With the sound of running water, Sanji looked up. Patty was at the sink, washing dishes and sporting a lump on top of his head. He snickered quietly to himself and took a celebratory drag of his stolen prize.

“You gotta stop picking fights like that,” Carne said, frowning down at Sanji. “Also, quit smoking. It’s bad for you.”

“Everybody else does it!”

Carne took the cigarette from Sanji and held it out of reach. “Well, you’re not everybody else, are you?”

“Hey!”

“Sanji, let it go.”

“But Pére!” Sanji whined.

Silence.

Carne had a hand over his mouth. Patty’s shoulders were shaking.

“What?” Sanji said, shoulders rising. “Don’t laugh! You guys said it earlier!”

Before he realized, Zeff leaned down and scooped him into a hug. Sanji stiffened. “W-What the hell are you doing, shitty geezer?”

“Nothing special.” He paused a moment. Sanji grew more tense with each passing second. “Thank you, mon fils.”

Sanji gasped. “You—what—when—?!”

“I wanted to read books from the North, so I learned,” he said. It sounded like that time he told Sanji he’d grow watermelons in his stomach if he ate the seeds. Zeff gave him a hard pat on the back and went back to cooking like nothing had happened.

“When you meet your soulmate, you better bring her ‘round to meet all of us, okay?” Carne said, wiping his eyes. Patty was trying and failing to subtly wipe his nose on his sleeve. “You can’t just run off without telling us!”

“As if I could ever run off.” Sanji leaned back against the counter, trying for smug, but ending up with a wobbly smile. “You guys would never survive without me.”

—

“Alright Zoro, hit me!”

Zoro wound up and punched Luffy in the face. Luffy bounced all across the deck, knocking over anything that wasn’t tied down until he ended up tangled in the railing. 

“Wow, seven bounces; that’s a new record!” Usopp said. “I need to step up my game.” 

“Hey bastards, you’re disturbing Nami!” Sanji shouted, bursting out of the galley.

“Sanji! When’s lunch?” 

“We just had breakfast.”

“And?” 

“And if I let you eat whenever you wanted you’d clear out every speck of food we have!”

Luffy whined. “But lunch is so far away. A little snack wouldn’t hurt.”

“Listen here you shitty rubberman—” Sanji picked Luffy up by the front of his vest. Anything else he said after that was completely lost to Usopp as he got a good look at his wrist.

Now, Sanji had been sailing with them for a couple weeks at this point, and he didn’t particularly put any effort in hiding the obvious mark stretching along the width of his wrist. Usopp could’ve probably named the basic colours and shapes of it based on the glimpses he’d seen. So really, it was no surprise that there was a yellow-orange target with a brown eye in the centre, framed by a green slingshot. 

What surprised him was the fact that it was only now, after seeing the whole picture at once, did he recognize that slingshot.

Holy fuck, Sanji was his soulmate!

Holy fuck, Sanji was his soulmate.

Mr. if-I-don’t-flirt-with-every-woman-around-I’ll-die was Usopp’s soulmate. Dear god.

What was he supposed to do with that? It was proper etiquette to make the soulmate bond known once one person had figured it out, but…

“Radiant Nami, would you like a refill of your tea?” 

“I picked some flowers just for you, my love!” 

“You’re the only girl for me, Nami baby!”

Well, what did Ms. Okra know anyway? She was wrong about a lot of things and all that soulmark junk was stupid anyway. Usopp’s curiousity had been sated, Sanji could keep flirting with girls guilt-free—it was a win-win!

And besides, compared to Sanji’s, Usopp’s soulmark was—fuck, he felt like crying.

“At least have the decency to wait a couple hours before asking for a snack!” Sanji growled, shaking Luffy and unintentionally bringing Usopp out of his head. Luffy simply laughed.

Usopp took a breath. He clenched his fists tight before letting them fall limp. “Hey, Sanji, you mind letting us have Luffy back? We were kinda in the middle of something.” He carefully kept his gaze away from Sanji’s wrist.

“Sure just give me a second, I need to beat some sense into this shitty captain of ours.”

“Give it up,” Zoro said. “That’s impossible with your puny kicks.”

“Puny?!” Sanji let go of Luffy and jumped the railing, butting heads with Zoro. “I’ll show you puny you third-rate swordsman!”

The force of Sanji letting go sent Luffy snapping back through the railing and around the deck before eventually flying through the galley door. There was a crashing noise and Nami screeched, followed closely by Luffy’s apologies between laughter.

“Eight bounces,” Usopp mumbled to himself.

Zoro and Sanji were fighting, Sanji’s sleeves riding up as he twisted around. 

Usopp quietly made his way below deck to the boys’ dorm, wedged himself in one of the corners, and buried his head in his knees with a groan.

—

“How come you’re so…” Nami waved a hand.

“You just gestured to all of me, my dear.”

“I mean, you flirt with pretty much any lady you meet.”

Sanji nodded frantically. “Of course! I can’t just let a lady go about her day without complimenting her!”

“Right.” Nami tapped the edge of her teacup. “Now, I don’t want to be rude, Sanji, but it really seems like you don’t care much about soulmates.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” He smiled. “It’s the opposite, actually. And a little silly, I suppose, but when I was a kid, I didn’t want to miss the chance that one of the customers might be my soulmate. Some only visited the restaurant a few times a year and others only came once while passing through on their travels.”

“So you… decided to flirt with every woman who visited?”

Sanji’s cheeks warmed. “Well, yes, in a sense.” 

Nami raised an eyebrow. “What’s there to be embarrassed about? You certainly don’t have any shame about it now.”

He coughed into his hand. “I… started doing it rather young. And I hadn’t really been able to discern which customers were with their soulmates or otherwise in relationships already.”

Nami laughed. “Aww, Sanji, that’s so cute. I wish I could’ve seen that.”

“Trust me you really, really don’t,” he said, refilling her tea.

She took a sip and let out a satisfied sigh. The galley was silent for a long moment.

“If…” Nami paused. “If you’re waiting for your soulmate, then does that mean you know who they are?”

Sanji shook his head. “Nope, I’m just as much in the dark about her as you are with yours.”

Nami touched a finger to the spot just under her ear, a light blue heart outlining a well-loved crown atop a sandcastle, a single peacock’s feather sticking out of it. Sanji had never seen that style of crown before—none of them had—but then, that wasn’t uncommon when it came to soulmates from different places.

“Sanji,” Nami said softly, her eyes drawn to the table. “You really don’t recognize it?”

Sanji tilted his head. “No, not at all.”

Nami sighed again, this one more tired than satisfied. “Maybe we should get your eyes checked before we cross the Red Line.”

Sanji made a noise of confusion, but Nami refused to elaborate. When she asked about lunch plans, it didn’t take long for him to forget all about it.

—

Bath times were… harrowing to say the least. The guys didn’t have to wash up at the same time, but Luffy—and now Chopper, too—needed a buddy so he didn’t slip under the water and drown. Zoro needed a little persuading sometimes, which was always easiest with company around, and Nami forbade Usopp and Luffy from taking baths on their own, on account of wasting all the hot water messing around. Ever at Nami’s beck and call, Sanji would join bath time to keep order, followed by Chopper who came more for the comradery than anything.  

It wasn’t too hard for Usopp to hide his mark before. It was far smaller than his hand so he could easily cover it with a well placed towel or carrying Luffy to the tub in a particular way. Before, it was out of embarrassment of the size, but ever since recognizing his own mark on Sanji’s wrist, things had become a lot more stressful.

“Alright you idiots,”—Sanji clapped his hands and everyone turned to him—“Nami dearest is still recovering so we’re gonna get this done in no time and leave her, and our precious Vivi, plenty of hot water to soak in.”

Usopp kept one hand on his towel, saluting Sanji with the other. “Aye aye, bath captain!” Chopper and Carue rushed to mimic him, determined looks on their faces.

“But guys, I’m the captain…” Luffy said, pouting.

“Yes, but Sanji’s the bath captain. That means he’s no fun—”

“Watch it, Longnose.”

“Don’t forget afraid of a little dirt,” Zoro piped up from across the room, already having washed himself off and sitting in the back of the tub.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Sanji said, brow raised. “You actually used your brain for once and insulted me when I won’t fight back. Maybe your head isn’t full of algae.” He smirked. “Though I guess it’s expected that you’re afraid of retaliation.”

“Who’s afraid?!” Zoro yelled, jumping to his feet. “You wanna go, Curly?”

Sanji wagged a finger. “Ah ah ah, what’s the rule?” 

He turned to Usopp and Luffy who both said, in a bored tone, “No fighting in the bath.”

“That’s right.” He started to unbutton his shirt as he added, “So finish up first and I’ll kick your ass later.”

Zoro sat himself back down, mumbling, “I’ll kick your ass later.”

If Sanji heard him, he didn’t show it, and man was Usopp glad for it. The days Sanji wasn’t just tearing out of his clothes as fast as possible to try and splash Zoro were always a treasure. Watching him leisurely expose the skin of his belly, a fine black happy trail dragging Usopp’s eyes down down down, just as he started to unbutton his pants—

“Usopp, hurry up!” He startled at Luffy’s voice, only just realizing he was still wearing his boxers. He quickly shoved them off and grabbed another towel for his waist before dumping a basin of water over Luffy’s head, clearing the suds all over him. Luffy gave a cheer and jumped into the bath, soaking Zoro completely. 

Ugh, what was Usopp doing? He couldn’t just check out Sanji like that! They were friends, crewmates! And Sanji didn’t even like guys, so it wasn’t like there was any chance. Besides, soulmarks didn’t really mean anything: you could be smitten lovers or barely acquaintences just like a relationship with any other person.

Yeah. Yeah! Usopp was probably just… going sea crazy. That’s a thing, right? Where being at sea so long makes you… fall in love with your best friend. Ugh.

“Sorry—I said I’m sorry, Zoro!” Luffy said as Zoro shook him back and forth. “I won’t do it again!”

“Won’t do it again my ass,” Regardless, Zoro let him slip from his grip and flop against the edge of the tub. 

“Usopp! Me too, me too!” Chopper said, covered in soap and holding out the basin. 

“Of course! The great Captain Usopp would never leave you hanging!” Usopp shifted in his stool. “Close your eyes and hold your breath.” Chopper did as instructed and Usopp poured the basin over him, slower than he did for Luffy. 

Chopper shook from head to toe, sending water flying everywhere. Usopp made a noise of surprise as he was soaked right back. “Thanks Usopp!” Chopper said, running for the bath. 

“Geez, give me a warning next time!” Usopp sighed, twirling some of his wet locks around his finger. “Man, I wasn’t even planning on washing my hair today.”

“No use complaining about it now.” Sanji said, pulling up a stool next to him. He held up Usopp’s shampoo bottle and shook it a little. “Want some help with it?”

“Please.”

—

Sanji laughed, the sound followed by a loud squirt of shampoo in his hand and a faint floral smell. Usopp turned his back to him and sighed happily at the first touch. They sat in relative silence—

“Chopper, do not turn into Walk Point—”

“Zoro, you don’t have to be jealous, we can take turns! You take the duck and—”

“I’m not gonna ride either of them!”

—as Sanji scrubbed shampoo into Usopp’s scalp. Usopp leaned back at bit more, his head tilting up. Like a cat wanting to be pet, Sanji thought fondly.

He took his time lathering up the suds and rubbing thoroughly at differents bits of sea salt and grit; he did the same for his own hair and he’d be damned if he didn’t do the same for his friend.

He combed his fingers through Usopp’s hair, taking his time to start from the ends and work his way up to the root, like Usopp taught him. Eventually, he ran his nails from the top of his scalp to the back of his nape in one smooth motion. Usopp had a full body tremble and sighed contentedly, the sound deep and satisfied. Something warm pooled in Sanji’s gut and he suddenly wanted to do anything to hear it again.

He repeated the motion, but Sanji only saw the curve of Usopp’s smile. A sight he held close to his heart, but not what he was hoping for. He ran his nails along the sides of his hair, scratching good and hard. Usopp huffed through his nose. Following the thread, Sanji put his fingers behind Usopp’s ear and scratched again; this time he had to rush to catch Usopp before he hit Sanji’s chest.

“Falling asleep?” Sanji asked with a laugh.

“Mmmno,” Usopp said, voice slow and drawn out. He tilted his ear towards Sanji and Sanji could see both his eyes were closed. “Keep going?”

Ah, maybe a dog would’ve been a better comparison. Sanji could almost imagine a little tail wagging against the floor. “‘Course. Can’t leave a job half done.” He grabbed a little more shampoo and got back to it, being sure to keep one hand right where Usopp wanted it.

To Sanji’s delight, Usopp sighed far deeper than before and pratically melted into his lap with hardly a thought; his arms lay limp over Sanji’s thighs and the back of his head pressed into Sanji’s stomach. The poor guy must’ve been tired from doing repairs on Merry earlier if all it took was a little head scratch or two to have him fighting sleep like that. Maybe Sanji should rinse off the shampoo and usher him off to bed—

Usopp sighed again, the sound closer to a pleased moan.

Well, this was benefitting both of them, really, so Sanji couldn’t just stop out of the blue. He had to be thorough in helping Usopp—he offered, afterall, and it’d be rude not to see it through. 

Usopp slid down a bit more, head turning to rest on Sanji’s thigh as Sanji scratched behind the other ear. His movement jostled the towel over his shoulder and it slipped to the ground.

Sanji noted it, absentmindedly, and glanced at the newly exposed part of Usopp’s chest without a second thought.

His hands stilled.

“Mmm? Why’d you stop?” Usopp asked. Sanji hardly heard him over the roaring in his ears. “Sanji?”

Blue waves. A chef’s hat. A distinct pattern of spirals. All encased in a small glass bottle.

There was a sharp inhale and suddenly the warmth across his thighs and stomach were gone.

Usopp stuttered some excuse as he left. Sanji was frozen, his eyes glued to the spot where his matching soulmark stared back at him.

His matching soulmark.

His matching soulmark.

And Usopp hadn’t said a word.

He sat there, covered in shampoo suds and wondering where he went wrong.

[strawbrygashez]

POSTAL 4 DUDE X GOTH READER

Rings

You and Dude are going to a concert!!! :D how fun!!! This isn’t serious or super long but I hope at least someone likes it!! 🖤🦇👻🪦⛓🔪🔮

————————————————————————

“Now would ya look at that!” Dude teased after catcall whistling at you once you’d finally emerged from the bathroom and into the living room where he’d sat waiting. You couldn’t help the slight blush that came though you’ve been with him for a year now and have heard him complement you plenty of times. It didn’t help he had his glasses off for the moment and you could see him looking you up and down with a certain…kinda glaze to them, almost like he could pounce on you right then and there.

But he knew better than that right now since you spent so lo- “I guess it makes up for the hour and a half you’ve spent getting ready!” He added in, his hungry glance suddenly switching to a playful one. God his moods could switch fast. You rolled your eyes at him. He knew damn well that it takes time to put together a look this intricate, especially with the makeup and all the layers of different things you decided to toss together for today. But you couldn’t stay annoyed at him too long when he stretched his arms out towards you with his grin still not leaving. You two probably should have at least started to be on the way to the concert by now but…yknow, it wouldn’t really hurt to entertain him for a minute. Besides the venue was surprisingly close this time and you wouldn’t be devastated to miss the runner up bands so..fuck it.

You grin as you walked closer to him but before you could prepare yourself for whatever he wanted, he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and tugged you down to sit on his lap, back facing towards him. “Dude! Be careful! I-” you started but cut yourself off as you felt him pull you closer so he could nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. He stayed silent a bit as he took your hands in his and gave you a kiss on your shoulder before speaking. “God, you’re gorgeous. You know that?” Even though you wanted to point out how he’s just gone through at least three different emotions in the last couple minutes, you instead just frowned a bit as your blush came back even worse. “W-whatever Dude….” was all you could say. He chuckled a bit as he moved his head to rest his chin on your shoulder before lifting one of your hands up and slightly moving it as though he was inspecting it. “I think you’d be proud to know I still haven’t chipped the nail polish you did last night! See?”Dude said as he put his hand out next to yours. Your sharp and long nails still indeed matched his in color and cleanliness. In the past when you’ve done Dudes nails, he always ended up picking at the nail polish before even a week could go by. It never really bothered you or hurt your feelings though. He’s always just been one of those guys who needed to be doing something with his hands or messing with something but it did feel nice to see all of his black nail polish looked as good as you did it the other night.

“Oh wow. Yeah I am proud of you babe! Were you looking forward to dressing up too today or something?” You asked him with a smile. Maybe you also should have told him to get ready while you were…seeing as he was still in his clothes from yesterday but oh well. “Hmm..I dunno. I was just more careful because you seemed so excited about today, so. Why? Are you wanting me to dress up and be some kinda vampire prince for the day?” He teased. The truth was he was actually genuinely a little excited to dig through his clothes and find his old black trench coat and whatever old band shirt that has survived the passing of time (which should be commendable if you’re being worn by Dude of all people) but you didn’t need to know that. Maybe he should tell you though that it does make his heart flutter a bit when he matches with you but..maybe later. That’s too soft for even right now.

You shrugged and interlocked your fingers with his before leaning back on him some. “Wear whatever. I don’t care.” It was the truth. You liked Dude for who he was, not what he wore or looked like. You didn’t expect a guy who was getting grey hairs already to still wanna dress to the nines with you. To be honest you were even kinda surprised he wanted to be in a crowd with a bunch of younger alternative people dancing around. “Nah. It’s fine. I got some clothes that have probably been begging to see daylight again anyways.” Dude replied before he tried to think back to the days when he’d somewhat tried to dress in a alternative style (though unlike yours. Yours was much more beautifully crafted and traditionally goth than whatever he was doing.)

If he had to guess it was probably back in the early 2000s when he was still with his bitch of a ex. He would have maybe been even more darkly inclined back then if his ex didn’t give him as much of a hard time already for dressing ‘like a freak’ for wearing his old trench coat everywhere, even during the heat because it just felt nice to wear and was useful. But before he could let himself slip too far back into those depressing thoughts, he felt you suddenly untangling your hands. He looked back down at yours as he watched you slip one of your rings off your finger and onto his. Before he could ask anything, you faced towards him with a grin and joked “There. At least it will look like you tried to dress up anyways.”

He just sat there for a moment, looking at you and then the ring. Trying really hard not to think too hard about the fact that the feeling of wearing rings similar to ones you had on made his heart beat faster and got him thinking of giving you a certain ring. He’s sure you could tell though by the way he felt his cheeks get warmer. “Y-yeah. Whatever. I uh- I think we’re cutting it close yknow? I should probably start getting dressed now so…” he gently took you by your waist again, sliding you off his thighs and onto the couch before standing up and doing his best to ignore your confused reaction. “You okay?” You asked as you watched him scratch his head, a habit he does when he’s nervous. “Yeah..I-I’m good. Just gonna get dressed.” He stopped himself and tried to get his wits back. “Dont worry! I won’t take a whole half a day like you do.” He teased. To his relief you just rolled your eyes again and grinned. Taking this as a go ahead, he left to go dig whatever clothes he could up.

-

Once he came back in, you couldn’t help but swoon a bit over how handsome he looked. He’d mentioned something about having a black trench coat and black combat boots before but seeing them in person…along with some fucking killer band shirt with some spiked bracelets..now maybe you wanted Dude to entertain your thoughts like you were willing to do for him earlier. But this time you two really should be leaving so you’ll have to save those ideas for afterwards. He only seemed a little bashful at being in a style different than what he was used to for so long but he seemed to perk up after you got up and now were checking him out. “You…look super fucking hot in that babe.” You complimented him, chucking a little at just how taken back you were. Before he could be worried that the laughing that followed was because he looked dumb, you again took his hand and looked him up and down, biting your bottom lip a tad which, of course gave him his confidence back. “’Course I do! I can obviously rock anything.” He joked but you knew it really was the truth. This man could look hot in even a garbage bag in your eyes.

Agreeing with him with a little ‘mhm’, you gave him a kiss on the cheek (that would have to suffice for how you felt now). He grinned as you pulled away and you were going too until you noticed that you’d left a black lipstick stain on his cheek. You only stared at him for a minute but that was long enough for Dude to piece two and two together of what had happened, especially when you went to go wipe off his cheek. He grinned even more widely as he stopped you. “Like hell you’re getting rid of that sweetheart.” Ugh. “Cmon Dude you already look so nice and-” and for some god damn reason before he could hear you out, he decided to fucking run and burst out of the house before you could try again. You were stunned only for a second before he yelled out, “CMON WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE!” God. Like he expects you to run after him in your platform boots. You act like a normal human being and take your time getting everything together and locking the door behind you before you finally turn around to see Dude already in his truck, in the driver seat, waving for you to come on.

[madstronaut]

once more into the breach for FaFiCoWriYear

Reading: Bite the Hand by @http-paprika

I literally kept writing and writing additional comments because i went back and re-read this multiple times

- i am not sure when i went from hating this man to wanting to hatefuck this man but yes this fic…only added fuel to the fire… *biting my fist while re-reading this for the nth time*

- i am also equally obsessed with frost as i am with graves here; strong competent/confident women are also my great weakness fic-wise (as are the strong competent/confident men who simp/are tender&gentle for them a la this fic’s graves)

- and once again the worldbuilding here with frosty and her fam and wolf lore is just fascinating!!! something that really stood out to me about this story was how I was just effortlessly drawn in to the plot and how… intuitive (wtf am I writing? idk) the story was to me - graves collecting misfits for his shadows, his whole ass characterization (as someone who’s spent some time in texas/has friends in dallas I heard his lines in graves’ voice seamlessly - high praise for papri’s writing <3) - when he point-blank asks reader “do i make you uncomfortable” - physically trying to put her at ease with his body language yet verbally going for the kill when they first meet- UNFFF aNYWAY I HAVE A HARD TIME EXPLAINING MY SIMPING FOR GRAVES IN WORDS BUT THE WAY PAPRIKA WRITES HIM MAKES ME WANT TO TACKLE AND MAUL HIM AND SIGN MY LIFE AWAY TO SHADOW COMPANY

- feral for the juxtaposition of reader’s bg with shifting/rejecting this quite frankly wild part of herself and graves’ role in helping her accept and embrace it - anyway i didnt really come here to start a treatise on the exploration of shifting as allegory for love/self-acceptance/sexuality in this 5billion word essay i will-

- GRAVES & SHADOW COMPANY RESCUING READER GRAVES & SHADOW COMPANY RESCUING READER GRAVES & SHADOW COMPANY RESCUING READER

- GRAVES GIVING FROST HIS OWN PERSONAL PATCH?????? that probably has his scent too-

- a part of me thought graves being able to sneak up on frost in her truck trying to find the base and her reaching for a plastic straw of all things in reaction to him surprisin her, this trained marine soldier - was a subtle tell that she implicitly trusts graves/doesnt see him as dangerous - sometimes the body just knows

- DEEPLY curious what the photos are of in graves’ office maybe his shadows having a cookout, group selfies &lt;3

- “got any brothers?” dialogue slayed me - i feel like canonwise the way he is fleshed out and built up really makes him the villain people love to hate because of how closely he+shadow company follows/supports 141 pre las-almas face-heel turn and that whole scene of him hyping up his shadows and all i will say is papri now has me fucking emotionally attached to her erikson, lerch, and vance (HE SO DID FIGHT A BEAR, LET HIM HAVE THIS FIGHT ME FROSTY)

- also obsessed with the im just teaching you how to hunt and run as a pack leader should be, it’s just my responsibility this is not-a-date, sooooo not-a-date

-whose vest did frost get indeed still curious

- “You look good,” He commented, quickly finishing the sentence when she cocked an eyebrow up at him. “-In the Shadow Company uniform and wearing our insignia. Like it was made just for you.”

omg i fucking love it when frost flusters graves

- not me googlin indigo bush to see what it looked like to distract myself from the emotional whiplash of the flashback scene of her first shifting (8/10 bush, i would also hide there if there weren’t other options with more foliage)

- shadows regularly falling asleep on graves is now canon for me (and ofc as pack dad/AND peak dad, he’d let them <3)

- “She was unwilling to admit that her scent was laced with something sweet, a glow in her face, and the ache in her bones whenever she passed Graves.”

i love love love LOVE the idea that you can smell crushes amongst wolves <3

- Frost wouldn’t offer that to Graves, he was already gracious enough as it was. But it didn’t stop her from closing her eyes, fantasizing about showing him every version of herself. Letting Graves take her in his arms, telling her the past didn’t matter.

omg this line!! this feeling!!! the YEARNING *sry busy wiping away all the foam coming out of my mouth*

- “Frost, you could tell me you murdered a man and I’d help you dispose of the body. I’m not one to judge.” THEN HE TAKES YOU TO HIS CABIN IN THE WOODS/SECRET DEN????

 FROSTY. I NEED YOU TO LOOK ME IN THE EYES. OK MAINTAIN EYE CONTACT. NOW LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SAY THIS MAN HAS CONFESSED HIS LOVE TO YOU AND DESIRES TO JOIN YOU IN LEGAL AND HOLY MATRIMONY AND WANTS YOU TO HAVE HIS BABIE-

ALSO WDYM PAST REPEATING ITSELF WHO ELSE HAS DONE THIS FOR OUR FROSTY!?!??!?! I am also in love with all the hints to frost’s backstory

- “Make yourself at home, if you break something, I will make you buy it.” COUGHHISHEARTCOUGH also this is truly such a Graves phrase

-  The light danced in his eyes, his brows knit together as he looked at her. A look of a man who was giving her his full attention. “And affairs of the heart have never been logical.” 

“What are you so scared of, Frost?” He kept his distance, waiting until she was ready to let him in. There was a patience in his tone, something so gentle about the way he spoke that made her knees want to buckle. 

*me, reading this with hearteyes*

- “I can’t change your past, but I can shape the future, and I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve everything you want, everything you crave, and I want to give it to you.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAA if a man said this to me i would probably rip my physical heart out of my chest and offer it up to them, kneeling

- “when she closed her eyes, it wasn’t the night she’d spent with Graves that she thought of, but a painful recollection from her past. It manifested in the physical, with stinging in her eyes and throat.”

pls i want to hug frost and hold her at a respectful distance by her shoulders and tell her it is okay <333333 even with all the hard work u put in to heal (shoutout to therapy and friends and loved ones <3) sometimes even the sweetest of memories and experiences can be tinged with bitterness from trauma; i have also experienced this way too many times and ugh i feel so seen here <3

- He was getting older, he needed someone willing to mate, to commit. And despite her best efforts, she wasn’t ready.

omg i felt a PHYSICAL PANG IN MY CHEST reading this line AAAAAAAAAA MY HEART <3

- this fic is still ongoing but i am absolutely vibrating at the idea that frosty ran all the way back home - like HOME home - basically scene of the crime for her - and graves now entering HER territory UNFH MY BODY IS READY PAPRIIIIIIII <3333

[mantisgodiveblog]

“We like digging up traces of characterization and worldbuilding! Unfortunately, we also sometimes think into it more than the person writing it did, because we by default assume that the person writing something also has the tendancy to read into things as much as we do - and most of the time, they just don't! Pitfalls of being a weirdo who likes to talk.” You put it into words!! That’s why so love dissecting every little line and detail ins game so much that if I like it I can probably recite the whole game more or less. In Stars and Time is something I like so much simply because it lets you dig as deep into little things as you want, or skim over it if you wish. All the little details for things even I wouldn’t have thought of, and plenty to let people short on time and energy still enjoy if they don’t care as much that will still let them have a great time. Anyways I wanted to comment on that!! Because you put my thoughts into overexaming games into thoughts so well!

OUGH it's nice to know there are people who feel the same way! ISAT has SUCH good writing so far we're looking forward to seeing how it goes so much because it has so much more internal consistency than so many other games of this sort! We've spent a lot of time in, like, fandoms that don't expect you to dig deeper than the surface, and it's GREAT to be working with a game that seems to be set up to let us dig as deep as we want.

We are a very well-fed fool, indeed, and it's INCREDIBLE to see the way that a character's traits will reflect and refract through every other aspect of them. We LOVE dissecting this stuff and the people who made the game seem to have put in the effort to reward us for dissecting it!!! It's so fun to be given these little snippets right out the gate you can read into SO much about motivations and such from these little snips of values and conversation and what they'll do after and just. Damn. It's GREAT.

[rubykgrant]

Hey, I can put all my pin-up pictures in one post now!

I spent a couple of weeks drawing these, sometimes trying multiple poses until finally they looked right, and then I had to travel to scan the pictures... and the scanner was really wonky. It washed out certain colors, while over-saturating others. It was just really weird. So, the only solution was to try to edit and fix the scanned images on my computer, and since I only have MS Paint with no layers, this was a challenge. I basically had to add the colors, then go over my lines so they would be clear, and finally erase around the edges. It took another few days to fix them all, but I did it!

(some descriptions for each character design below)

Church gave me the most trouble… and why wouldn’t he? This CHURCH, after all. He lives to be difficult. I knew I wanted him to have the “mud-flap babe pose”, but I kept messing up his face, and didn’t realize how bad I messed up until after I inked and colored it in… at one point, I tried to re-draw the face and cut out the one that didn’t work, and paste the two pieces of paper together. It wasn’t worker, so I finally just traced over my own lines, did the face all over again, and he looked half-way decent. SO, I’m done with Church! Look at that smug expression, he knows he’s a jerk. Seriously though, I love how he turned out!

When it comes to his design, I have my whole RVB story-line with a scenario in which Church and Tex get to come back with synthetic human bodies (specifically, when the Epsilon AI was deconstructed, all of the data from his memories WENT somewhere; it was downloaded back into the original AI units, which weren’t “dead” after the EMP, just deactivated. revived by Epsilon’s data, all the AI were able to reactivate, including Alpha! now HE is the one who is carrying on with the memories another part of him left behind… whoops, that’s sad, but don’t worry! he now also has the chance to feel better~). His was based on the DNA of the Director, but he’s not a clone, exactly. There’s a similarity for sure, but they’d probably look more like brothers. Church is considerably shorter, and even when he was “fresh out of the oven”, he’s more chunky too. As time goes on and he’s able to eat REAL FOOD, Church gets nice and chubby. He also wanted to be strong enough to actually pick Tex up, so that was his whole motivation for muscles. He has fairly long hair at first, and later cuts and styles it to this (imagine it feels like a silky-soft hedgehog). He wound up with some face-fuzz, and wasn’t sure of he should keep it or not… he doesn’t want to seem like he intentionally looks like the Director, but also? If he tries to avoid looking like him on purpose, he’s still letting that dude influence his decisions. Church finally asked Carolina (only fair, because she has to look at him), and she said it kinda suits him, especially since he has a squared jaw. So, the face-fuzz stayed~

*

The first rule of face-designs for RVB characters; Tucker is the prettiest. This is law. He definitely is really into the whole romantic-pose thing, so he’s both flirty and totally relaxed. “Yeah, I know, you want me. Don’t worry, plenty of Tucker for everybody!”. I like imagining his features as being a little aquiline, but still soft (he’s one of those people who looks about 10 years younger than he actually is, and even when he’s an old man, he’ll barely look 40).

He is indeed a manlet short king, thank you very much. He wasn’t always so muscular, but after training with Wash, Tucker has some definition going on (glorious calves, after all). I think the main thing with him that I keep in mind, is; yeah, in the beginning, he definitely wasn’t an “ideal fighter”, but he’s proven to not only be capable, but FANTASTIC… and it isn’t just about fighting. It isn’t just flirting, either. Tucker genuinely has so much depth, and a thoughtful side that makes him really care about people. So, even when I draw him looking strong, or confident, I want him to have a gentle touch in there~

*

When I thought about what kinda pose I wanted for Tex, I knew she had to be FLEXING, obviously. For the rest of the body, I used reference for some drawings I did many years ago in a Human Figure class, with models who posed while we sketched. I always liked the way this one sketch I did showed the line in the back follow all the way down the leg, so I elaborated on this for Tex. I really wanted something to show the full body, and standing up so you get the feel for how imposing/intimidating she is. I think she’d approve~

Like Church, I imagined a scenario in which she gets to return in a synthetic human body, hers being based on the DNA of Allison (rather than turning out identical, they simply share similarities). Ironically, Tex looks more like Carolina than Allison did (I like to think Carolina takes after a great-grandmother on her mom’s side, and Tex just kinda wound up inheriting those traits in her new body, too). Tex is very TALL, and once she was able to, she was determined to get BUFF. Tex is a built like a brick house, heck yeah!

*

I wanted to do another full-standing pose for Caboose to really show how tall he is. For a while, I wasn’t sure what to do with his hands... like, him holding them up over his head didn’t seem to work, on his hips didn’t look right... finally, I sketched them clasped behind his back, and it was perfect! Nice and casual, but also really cute. It also show’s off his arms REALLY good~

Like a lot of people, I imagine Caboose as being BIG. It just kinda fits with how strong he is, and since I made Tucker and Church both tiny, Caboose can totally life them both up on his shoulders! Little boy blue? Nah, big boy blue! Sarge is tiny too, so I love the idea of him standing next to Caboose, who is his favorite Blue (Caboose is son-boy). Caboose is also pretty comfortable with himself, so I just wanted him to calm and happy. He deserves it~

*

We never got a good look at Wash back in Project Freelancer, but at some point, somebody came up with blonde-freckle-man, and a lot of us latched onto it. I am no exception… and I really went all-out with his freckles! It was once mentioned that he grew a beard, so I decided to keep that. It is a little more full and fluffy than I usually draw it, but hey- maybe he’s growing it out a bit. That foot ticked me off, but whatever, I’m done with it. Also, yes; I gave him a catboy pose~

I imagine Wash also being tall, and fairly lean. Certainly athletic, but also agile. The dude has also been all over the map in terms of his character arc; Freelancer Dork, Mr Serious Recovery One, Villain Guy, Church Impersonator, and finally- a dork yet again, but now he’s more comfortable to be one! After living with the Reds and Blues, he’s found a way to sort of… not feel awkward about being awkward? It makes sense when you know this group. Also, I’m not sure how much I would elaborate on it in my story-line… but I kinda lean toward trans Wash~

* 

Kai was actually the first one I did (originally, the only one... but then I kept going haha). I had this specific pose in mind for her that I thought was really cute. Somehow, the sketch turned out alright on the first try, and after I added all the ink and color, it was still good! The process I used to draw her was repeated for each picture; pencil sketch, then go over the lines I like with this one almost-dry brown marker (honestly, it looks like drawing with charcoal, but thankfully it WORKS like a felt pen. charcoal is so tricky), erase unneeded pencil lines, add more defined lines with the colors I want to use for the character (for Kai, this one goldenrod pen I have), and continue with the details, mixing different pens and colored pencils for the shading. It was a WHOLE thing.

I love how her pose turned out, she really looks like she has actual form. I wanted to express the fact that she is beautiful, and she’s also chubby with stretch-marks, thank you very much. I also imagine she and her bro have like... very fine body hair that you can barely see (seriously, they have baby hair on their arms and legs). As for the hair on her head, man- I LOVE drawing hair, and hers is so pretty! I like how it almost looks like gold~

*

Sweet Caroline, bah-bah-bah! She’s one of the few characters who shows us her face, so I know what she looks like, but I still wanted to play around with my design of her. I decided short hair works for her (and although I’m just using the aqua-blue here, I imagine that she starts dying it a darker red). She’s usually very tense and tough, so I wanted to let he show a slightly more dainty side with the pose. When I finally figured out how to make legs sort of over-lap in different ways, I started having fun doing poses like this. You can still see her impressive arm muscles, though~

Carolina has definitely taken some battle-damage over the years, with a few scars here and there… also, I think she just doesn’t care about shaving, so enjoy the leg hair! She was arguably the easiest to draw. Thank you for that, Carolina~

*

I struggled with this pose for quite a while… my fault for deciding on something difficult, but come on! I had to go with a push-up. Also, a one-handed push-up at that, because Sarge has to show off. I actually showed my mom all these pictures as I finished them (and she cracked me up, she’d say “That’s a very cute naked person, honey. Now, go color another one” like I’m drawing unicorns or something haha). When she saw Sarge, she said “He looks like a big silver back gorilla”, and she had no idea how ironic and hilarious that actually is.

I imagine Sarge being the shortest of the group, very beefy and very boxy. He’s also got the most body hair of the group. Plenty of scars as well (the ones on his knuckles are from punching so hard while wearing older armor, his hands would get scraped on the inside. newer armor has better padding). I wanted his face to look smug, like he’s saying “Yes, I know you’re looking at me, I can’t blame you”. As you can see, he doesn’t have much of a butt… and what is there is a tight little brick haha~

*

Grif obviously needed to have a very chill pose, so he’s kicked-back, relaxing with his legs crossed, and arms folded behind his head. I’m so happy I’ve gotten better at drawing soft mass, because fat characters are beautiful (and as a chubby person myself, I want to do different body-types justice). Grif is indeed a big guy, and although he’s very calm here, I hope you can kinda tell he’s got some strength in that body too.

Like Simmons’ prosthetics, I wanted Grif’s limbs with the skin-grafts to be clear and easy to see. Over the years, his body has sort of “absorbed” the organic tissue Simmons donated, so Grif has evened-out (though you can kinda tell, his lighter foot doesn’t quite match the one he “grew” himself, but he’s not as lop-sided as when the surgery first happened.) Just like Kai, I loved doing the curls in his wavy hair~

*

Donut was the second one I made after Kai, because he pretty much took over my brain and DEMANDED to be drawn in a pin-up pose. What kind of pose was easy enough to figure out (imagine him spread out on a bead). I totally screwed up on his feet, and didn’t want to re-draw the whole thing… but I also didn’t have white-out, or even white paint. I wound up using this craftwork enamel stuff… which is OK, but really tacky (I don’t mean like it looks bad, but tacky as in it takes forever to dry and stays sticky for too long).

I imagine Donut is what you get if Barbie had a baby with GI Joe; totally adorable, and also impressively buff (especially his arms). His face has the scar from the grenade incident, and after having his hair lop-sided for a while, he started styling with a side-cut and letting the rest grow out. He also has a scar on one of his hands (from when he got hurt from the vehicle). His face naturally makes the cutesy kitty mouth~

*

If you want to imagine these pin-ups as being for like… and actual calendar that exists within the RVB universe, the only way they could get Simmons to be part of it was by intentionally acting like they weren’t going to include him. This would kick his fears of being ignored into high-gear, so he would INSIST on doing it too. He’s still a little uncertain… so, a shy pose for the shy nakey boy~

I wanted to make sure we could clearly see his cybernetics (and I’m so happy with how the foot turned out). Like a lot of people, I imagine red-head Simmons, and I think he probably had short hair most of his life… but around Chorus he didn’t have time to keep trimming it, and after Iris it totally got away from him. One day he pulls it back, to figure out how much needs to cut off, but instead he went “Oh, pony-tail?”. So yeah, long hair Simmons! He used to be a string-bean too, but years of running around and trying not to die helped him put on some weight (he totally doesn’t even realize he has actual muscles~)

*

When I decided to do sort of leaned-over pose with Doc, it was hard to make it work… but finally, I had something that looked decent. I also wanted to show a wink and smirk, because O’Malley is there too! He probably would have rather done some kind of pose in a graveyard to look all creepy, but Doc won with the cute pose.

I like the idea of him having really thick, fluffy, and curly hair. Also, a very defined nose. His legs are really strong (being a former track runner and all), but he not as muscular as some of the others. In fact, Grif is the tallest of the short group, with Doc just a little shorter than him (after that is Church, Tucker, Kai, and Sarge). I’m really happy with how all the shapes of his forms turned out, his tummy, his shoulders, his legs~

*

I really wanted to do an especially cute pose for Locus, because he deserves to feel pretty~ He’s probably about as shy and awkward as Simmons in certain ways (certainly confident when it comes to fighting, but social situations? he’s a dork). So, he’s sort of closed-off here, but hey- popping that leg up, because yes! Locus can have fun, too! His legs turned out really nice too~

We know what he looks like in the show, or at least, what he looked like working with Felix before Chorus. So, I had that to bas his design on. I feel like while Chorus stuff was going on, Locus actually lost a lot of weight, being so stressed-out and not even recognizing how unhappy he was. He’s always been beefy and buff, but now that he has some new friends that actually give a heck, he’s put on some weight, and is just a bit more chubby than he used to be (which is a good thing~)

[deathfavor]

@yeonban​​​​ said: ❛  what  did  you  do ?  ❜  shalnark  &  kalluto!  it  isn't  a  scolding  -  merely  a  calm  query.  they  had  been  separated  mid-way  through  the  mission,  all  communication  halted,  and  so  shalnark  wishes  to  know  what  kalluto  has  done  or  experienced  during  their  time  apart  in  order  to  figure  out  the  best  plan  of  action  going  forward.

there’s always a downside starters

   “  I continued with my part of the mission.  “  Kalluto answers without hesitation, though his pink gaze turns towards Shalnark to observe how the other will react. Should he have stopped? The young assassin didn’t see a reason for it. The communication had been cut, but Kalluto was plenty capable on his own. He had been given orders - he would complete them. That was how it was in his mind. Failure was not something that had even been acceptable in his life. He hadn’t panicked or stumbled around or caused a mess. He’d done as he was told.

   Failure with his family certainly wouldn’t have helped him earn attention. But even with all he’d done, he’d barely gotten scraps from them as it was. In contrast, it’d been almost overwhelming joining the Troupe. He was spoken to, but he was also just looked at. Not as a shadow on the wall, but as someone who was present and there. It wasn’t something he’d been used to.

   Kalluto pulls out the papers to hold them out towards Shalnark, unblinking and expressionless.  Did......he want something more than that? Shalnark was harder to read than the others. But he was smart. So he probably had already expected Kalluto to be successful. But he’d still asked the question. There must be a deeper intent behind it then. A small flicker of uncertainty sparks in his chest as he seems intent on not blinking ;  if he did, he might miss something important from the other spider.

   “  I.....confirmed that our communication was indeed severed and continued onwards. The guards weren’t particularly observant.  “  He starts to expand, slowly.  “  I ensured all protective and security measures were down and disarmed the rest like the plan entailed. I used my fan to not leave a trace.  “ It felt like an important thing to note before Shalnark could ask. “  The codes weren’t hidden particularly well. Men like him tend to hide them in the same three spots. I’ve done it before on an assassination mission.  I made sure to check for false documents just in case. Then I came to find you as soon as my task was complete.  “  

   Unease twists in his stomach. Had he done something wrong? He’d listened intently to the details of the mission beforehand. Where to move, the timing of everything, threats, targets and avoidances. He’d made sure to memorize each word.

   “  Should i....not have?  “  His informative voice softens now that hard facts are out of the question.  In assassinations, seeing a mission through was the highest priority. Maybe that wasn’t right for the Troupe though. Had something gone wrong, he would have adjusted or retreated as necessary. But it hadn’t been necessary as far as he was concerned. Fingers subtly curl into the silk of his kimono, clutching it as uncertainty gnaws at his mind.  “  I apologize if not. I’ll accept punishment as you see fit.  “  His gaze lowers, lips pressed together.

   He couldn’t blame Shalnark if he was upset. Nor would he act up. After all, he was still the newest and youngest member even with the months he’s spent with them now. And while several were warm, he couldn’t fault those who might be skeptical, be it of skill or because of the name he carried.  “  I didn’t.....want to let any of you down...So I thought completing the mission would be the right path.  “  It’s a rare vocalization of unprompted explanation of Kalluto, though he does not raise his head.

[m-notes]

'Going home or visiting your homeland?'

Whenever I think about travelling to see my family & friends, I always get thoughts about how foreign I might feel in the place where I'm from. I am fully aware that there are plenty of immigrants that are constantly homesick which leads to being happy and confident when it comes to travelling to the place where they grew up. Unfortunately, I am not one of them, I always have doubts, and many times visiting Latvia felt like a chore even though I do in fact love the country I'm from.

But I have always felt that I never really belonged in my hometown which is why moving to Norway was so easy in the first place. Each trip to Latvia had been giving me anxiety for the past nearly 6 years until my most recent trip which happened after 3 years of not visiting at all. That was finally the experience that I could call fully fun.

Don't get me wrong, my past visits were great as well, but there was always this bitter aftertaste because of small things that happened. Or constant anxiety about what could happen. I clearly remember counting days till I would return back to my routine in Norway. I was willing to kiss the Norwegian soil the moment I stepped on it. That just didn't feel right.

As I am typing this text right now, I also feel how the tables have turned. For the first time ever I felt I was dreading coming back to Norway. Not in a too substantial way. Simply because it meant returning to my routine, my stress & the worries that everyone has. Basically the real "coming back from vacation" experience. How did it change so much?

Well, probably not visiting motherland for 3 years had something to do with it. I felt like I was suddenly disconnected from my past worries there. I felt free, sort of? I was not reminiscing too much. I was experiencing new things or re-discovering old ones instead.

It truly felt like a real vacation for once. At the same time it also was my first great experience of "going home". I can't really say "going home" without using brackets because I have reached the point of Norway being my main home quite long ago.

A few more things made the most recent visit very special. I can talk about the tourist experience I've had (and I mean real tourist activities, not just taking a stroll in the Old Town once), I can talk about how a lot of things changed including my family moving away (but not far at all) from my place of growing up. Or I can talk about the people that have been surrounding me. That's actually a very interesting bit.

Besides my family, I haven't spent time with a single person who I used to hang out with before my moving to Norway. All of them are the people I had been acquainted with for some years before that, but we actually became very close only during past 5 years. There is some special sort of magic in that.

Not being defined by the kind of person I used to be; not being haunted by the ghosts of the past (this sounds more dramatic than I meant it lol); still getting to know each other as adults instead of just catching up and bringing up irrelevant memories.. I can go on, but what I really need to say is that I really appreciated how it felt.

Adult friendships that are not based on growing up together are so cool and precious. You end up getting close with people when your own persona is almost fully established, & setting up the right boundaries. You're not feeling vulnerable because you do indeed have a decent judgement on who's here to gain something from you & hurt you or who's here to be here for you as you are here for them. And if we're talking adult friendships within my most recent experience, one thing I really appreciate is how relaxing it feels to spend time with the people I've become really close with only during past few years. You're just straight up vibing, you spend time learning & experiencing new things together which inevitably leads to discussing them in process or afterwards, so you get to know each other on a different level which feels so great. At the same time it's also wonderful to spend time together in silence, just enjoying the weather, the views, the music — everything that surrounds you, knowing that there is a big chance you're perceiving this exact moment in a very similar way.

Another interesting thing to experience was seeing how my family has changed. I mean, they literally grew up. That often is a very stressful bit because before each visit it always feels like they are going to treat you as a kid you were when you moved away. But it was just not cool of me to underestimate them like that, to be honest. I grew up and so did they. I have my own life, habits & views, and they respect it. They are more fun to spend time with as we're reaching the age of deeper mutual understanding even though I have always enjoyed their company. All I felt while spending time with them was warmth & comfort.

Finally, I have to mention how the choice of season really affected this trip. Being in Latvia in October is something I wish to do more often (sucks that there's only one October per year, right?). Not only it's great to enjoy the falling leaves of all possible colors & crisp cold air, but it's also very inspirational. This period there has always been my favourite, I don't remember a single October in Latvia in my life I didn't enjoy. I do romanticise this period & it seems to romanticise me back.

Answering the question that I posed in the title, namely 'Going home or visiting your homeland?' is very difficult. In one hand, it was a completely new experience, full of activities that locals usually don't do, nor do the immigrants who really come home (instead, they simply run errands most of their time in their hometown what I used to do too). On the other hand, this was the cosiest experience that I definitely associated with the great comfort of coming back home.

For once, I'm really looking forward to doing it again.🍂

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

An Unexpected Taste of Love: Chapter Two

Pairing: Darkling x Female Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You are a servant at the Grand Palace, but when a threat to the Second Army’s General leads to the King assigning him a taster, you are forced into a new role that just may be the starting point for a whole new journey.    

Author’s note: I haven’t read the books but there may be a couple of small references to them that I have picked up from other sources (other fics, the grishaverse wiki, etc). Other than that, this fic is solely based on the TV show version of the Darkling.

Warnings: Near death experience, The Darkling is his own warning

———————————————————

< Chapter One | Masterlist | Chapter Three >

The party went on long into the night, but it at least went by smoothly. There were no more mishaps or altercations, and for the most part, you were left watching the guests enjoy themselves. You were a little jealous that you couldn’t join in, but even without your commoner status, you knew it was impossible. You didn’t know any of these people and would be an outsider in more ways than one… but seeing everyone celebrate the love of two of their own, it made you yearn for something similar. Having a social life as a servant was complicated, and most parties were held in secret in small quarters away from the judgemental eyes of royals who thought you did not deserve such festivities.

It was almost midnight when the General retired, meaning you were finally free to return to your room. Mina was kind enough to show you back there, the palace looking much different in the dark, and you tucked yourself into your bed just as the clock struck twelve.

You didn’t go to sleep, though. This was your favourite time of night – the only time you ever got to yourself – and you rarely wasted it on sleep. Instead, you spent the next hour reading your favourite book until your eyes were drooping too much to keep them open.

Your last thought before you succumbed to sleep was of the General’s amused smirk and wondering what the next day would bring.

----

The next day ended up coming a lot sooner than expected; the sun was not even up when you were being summoned to test the General’s breakfast. You were so tired that you barely even managed a polite bow before unceremoniously stabbing your fork into his food. You would probably be embarrassed later, but Early Morning You didn’t care too much about your behaviour.

Your barely half-awake state also meant that you missed the amusement in the General’s eyes and the way his lips twitched from trying not to smile, just as you missed the chuckle in his voice as he dismissed you, telling you to go back to bed.

Two hours later, when you woke up again and were feeling a little more like yourself, you were indeed embarrassed. So, in an effort to distract yourself, you decided to explore the Little Palace while you waited for your next summoning. Mina had told you that while most of the palace was out of bounds for servants unless on duty, there were a few areas you were allowed access to, including the library and the entirety of the palace grounds so long as you didn’t go too far to find if you were needed. It was more freedom than had been granted to you at the Grand Palace, and you were eager to make use of it while you could.

You started with a quick stroll around the outside of the palace, briefly stopping to watch the Grisha train from a distance, and then you retired to the library. The books were much the same as those in the Grand Palace library (which you had snuck into many times in the dead of night), but there were still plenty that caught your eye so your giddiness at something new remained untarnished. The Grisha history section, for instance, was a lot more expansive, and you couldn’t wait to look through it.

You glanced over the titles, taking note of the ones that pertained to your interests, and then picked a couple of books at random. A few of the Grisha who were also in the library gave you curious looks, but no one told you to leave, so you found yourself a comfortable spot and settled down to read.

You were about two chapters through a book on the Black Heretic when Mina arrived to let you know the General was ready for lunch. You eyed the clock, surprised at how late it was considering how early he had had his breakfast. You hoped he wasn’t sneaking meals without you. If the King found out, you would likely never see beyond the inside of a prison cell.

Mina must have sensed your worry, because she was quick to reassure you that such a long stretch between meals was normal for the General. Apparently, he got too caught up in his work and usually forgot to eat for hours at a time.

Indeed, when you arrived at what you assumed must have been the war room, the General was nose deep in important looking papers. He barely even glanced up at you or the server who arrived seconds later with his food. It gave you the chance to properly examine his profile up close, and you were once again struck with how handsome he was. Even with his brow furrowed in concentration, his facial features were beyond comparison to any other man you had ever met. His eyes were so dark you could get lost in them forever, and his hair looked so soft-

‘Are you going to eat or stare?’

You startled at the General’s voice, and heat flooded your face as you realised you had been caught staring. He hadn’t even looked up from his papers, so you doubted he had realised the full extent of your admiring gaze, but it was still enough to make you flustered.

‘Apologies, General,’ you said, voice rushed and a few octaves too high, and you hurried over to where the server had left his meal. You didn’t even bother to check what you were eating, too focussed on having embarrassed yourself twice in one day, and you had to hold in your dry retching as you realised you had just bitten into an olive.

‘Are you alright?’ asked the General, looking up from his desk with a small frown.

You nodded, forcing yourself to swallow. ‘I’m not a fan of olives, I’m afraid,’ you told him, hiding your mortification behind a laugh.

‘Then why did you eat it?’

‘I guess I was distracted,’ you said before realising how it sounded. You closed your eyes, silently wishing for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. When you opened them again, you could see the General was trying not laugh.

Just great.

Oh well, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be used to women being flustered in his presence, you thought. Surely there had been others before you.

‘Was there anything else, General?’ you asked, noticing a half-drunk pitcher of water on the table.

‘I fetched the water myself,’ he said, following your gaze. ‘Rest assured, it was not tampered with.’

You nodded, satisfied, but did not leave until he dismissed you. He looked you over, assessing you as he had done the previous night, and then let you go with a wave of his hand. You gave a little bow before scurrying out of the room as fast as polite decorum allowed.

You silently vowed that the next time you saw General Kirigan, you would not make a fool of yourself.

----

The rest of the day passed without you being called upon, so with having so much free time during the day, you decided you could afford to have an earlier night, settling under the covers at 11 o’clock. You had gotten about six hours of sleep that morning, a whole hour more than what you usually got, but the brokenness of it meant that you still felt the exhaustion that all servants felt – the kind that came with working day in day out for years with no end in sight. You expected your new role would bring some relief in that regard; you had had more free time in your past day than you had had in the past month working at the Grand Palace.

The perks of risking your life, you supposed.

And with that comforting thought in mind, you decided to skip your reading and try and sleep. In retrospect, that was a bad idea. It felt like you had barely closed your eyes before there was a knock on your door, startling you awake. You looked at the clock and sighed. You had only been asleep for half an hour. Not that you were too surprised; you hadn’t seen the General since his late lunch and had spent a lot of your night waiting around for him to have his dinner.

You had given up too early it seemed.

Still, there was no use complaining about it, so you quickly got dressed and made your way to the war room. He didn’t appear to be there, however.

‘General?’ you called out, though not too loud. Most of the palace would be asleep at this time of night.

There was a noise from inside a joining room you hadn’t noticed before, and you made your way towards it. Peering inside, you realised that this must have been his bedroom, and the “war room” was in fact part of his private quarters.

Either space was short in the Little Palace, or the General was very dedicated.

Said General was sitting at a table littered with what looked like journals. His dinner was sitting to the side, untouched, but you couldn’t be sure if he had waited for you or if he was just so engrossed in his work that he hadn’t even noticed it was there.

‘General,’ you said again, this time a little quieter. He looked up from his journals, brow creased. ‘Are you ready to eat?’

His confused gaze travelled from you to the food before realisation struck him. Yep, he had definitely not known it was there. After a moment of staring at the food, he sat back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked exhausted.

‘I suppose so,’ he mumbled, and you took that as your cue to come further into the room. This time when you chose something to take from his plate, you paid more attention and chose a small potato. Much safer.

After a minute had passed and you were still alive, you bowed again and were just about to leave when the General’s voice stopped you.

‘Stay,’ he said, gesturing to the seat opposite him. ‘Please. I’ve been going over maps and mission plans for hours and am in need of a distraction.’

Your nervous trepidation at being asked to stay turned to all out suspicion in an instant. ‘A distraction, sir?’ you asked, voice a tad squeaky. You were well aware of what happened to some servants in the dead of the night, forced to please bored and powerful men.

Vile men.

You had not pegged the General to be such a man, but appearances could be deceiving. Maybe he had noticed you admiring him at lunch and now he wanted to do something about it?

The General was seemingly oblivious to your unease. ‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘I think talking about something other than war and politics for a while may do me some good.’

You breathed a sigh of relief. All he wanted from you was conversation.

‘Of course, General,’ you said, taking the offered seat.

You sat there awkwardly for a moment before the General spoke again. ‘What’s your name?’ he finally asked. You happily gave it and he hummed thoughtfully as he picked at his food. ‘You’re new here, aren’t you? I don’t recall seeing you at the Little Palace before.’

‘You memorise all the servants’ faces, do you?’ you asked. It was said lightly, almost teasingly, but it brought a frown to the General’s face, and you suddenly realised how your joke must have sounded. ‘Apologies, General,’ you said quickly, looking down. So much for not embarrassing yourself. ‘I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. I was trying to be funny. As you can tell, I’m not very good at it.’

You risked a glance up at him and saw that his frown was gone and he was now fighting a smile. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I don’t memorise all their faces. Just the pretty ones.’

You blushed at the unexpected compliment. Much to his delight it seemed, as he was no longer even trying to hide his smirk, even as he ate his food. It was most unlike the usually stoic Black General.

Or perhaps this was more like the real him, you pondered. A side of him that he had to keep hidden to preserve his fearsome reputation.

‘You haven’t seen me around the Little Palace before,’ you told him, steering the conversation back to his original question. ‘I’ve always worked at the Grand Palace.’

‘And how are you finding the change?’

You thought about it for a moment before answering. ‘Well, I only started yesterday evening, but it’s a nice breather to be honest. I mean, my old duties were not quite so… terrifying-’ you chuckled awkwardly ‘-but there were many more of them. It’s nice to have just the one for a while.’

For a brief second, you worried that your admission would lead to him giving you more duties, but the thought didn’t seem to even cross his mind.

‘So you weren’t a taster before?’ he asked, popping a grape into his mouth.

You shook your head. ‘I guess all the usual tasters were already spoken for. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.’

He didn’t comment, but there was something in his eyes that told you that he didn’t mind being stuck with you too much. Considering that he hadn’t wanted a taster at all, the thought gave you a much-needed confidence boost.

‘Do you have any leads on who is threatening you?’ you asked.

‘Why? Eager to get back to the Grand Palace?’

‘No,’ you answered quickly. A little too quickly. But if the General noticed, he didn’t say anything.

‘None as yet,’ he said, answering your question. ‘So far, all the assassination attempts have been done through… well, assassins. And they didn’t give up any information of worth. I doubt they even knew the real identities of those who hired them.’

Your eyes widened; you hadn’t realised that the “threats” the King had spoken of had already begun to come to fruition.

Your job just got even more terrifying.

‘There have already been assassination attempts?’ you asked, trying not to let your anxiety show.

The General nodded and pushed his plate away, meal done with. ‘Only two. Well, recently anyway.’ He said it so casually, and you felt a small pang of sympathy for him. How many times had someone tried to kill him for it to become so blasé?

‘If I may say so, General,’ you said, being careful with how much he was willing to let you speak freely, ‘you don’t seem overly concerned.’

The General smirked and sat back in his chair, his hands joined together at his chest. Behind him, the lights of the lanterns disappeared as a darkness crept along the room. You couldn’t deny the sight was unnerving, but you weren’t afraid.

‘Point taken,’ you said around a chuckle. Of course he wasn’t concerned; you doubted there was an assassin alive who could take him out directly.

The shadows receded but the General’s smirk remained. ‘The true perpetrators will show themselves eventually,’ he said with confidence. ‘Until then, I carry on as always.’

You nodded solemnly. You hoped that whoever was behind this threat showed themselves soon, for both of your sakes.

You both sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in your own thoughts, but not uncomfortably so. You took the chance to subtly look around the General’s bedroom. It was quite understated compared to those of the Grand Palace, but still far more spacious and inviting than any you had ever slept in. You couldn’t help but feel that it suited him, with its dark woods and darker curtains.

You didn’t let your gaze linger however, vividly remembering your embarrassing altercation at lunch. Instead, your attention fell upon the bookshelf, noticing a copy of the same book you were reading at the library that afternoon, albeit a much older edition.

‘Do you like to read?’ the General asked, obviously noticing where your attention had drifted to.

You turned back to him and nodded. ‘When I get the chance.’

‘You know, the servants are permitted to use the library here at the Little Palace.’

‘I visited it this afternoon,’ you said, a bit too much excitement creeping into your voice. ‘I’ve already made a list of books to borrow.’

‘Well, if you ever need any recommendations, let me know. I feel like I’ve read every book in there at least twice.’

You smiled warmly at the gesture. ‘I will keep that in mind. Thank you, General.’

From there, the conversation delved into you both sharing your favourite genres and opinions on certain texts. He seemed pleased with your fascination of the Small Science, and even recommended a few books about it, while you were surprised at his fondness for fictional novels. By the time you realised how much time had passed, you had almost forgotten the power dynamic between the two of you.

‘I suppose I’d better get back to it,’ said the General, looking at the papers on his desk with displeasure.

‘I’m sure they’ll still be there in the morning,’ you said, softly. ‘You should get some sleep.’

The mere mention of sleep had you suddenly remembering how tired you were, and you muffled a yawn behind your hand.

‘So should you,’ said the General. Maybe it was your sleep deprived brain, but you could have sworn there was a hint of affection in his voice.

You nodded and rose from your seat, only to stumble as your foot caught on the bottom of your skirts. You caught yourself on the table, but even if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have fallen. General Kirigan was suddenly right next to you, holding you steady with one hand at your waist and the other on your shoulder, his fingertips just brushing your neck.

You felt your whole body heat up, at both the embarrassment and his proximity.

‘Thanks,’ you mumbled, straightening your skirts as an excuse to hide your face. Now sure that you were not going to fall, the General removed his hands, but you couldn’t help but notice how the one at your shoulder lingered for a moment.

Or perhaps it was just your imagination.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked. You looked up to find that he had only moved back one step and was still very much in your personal space. You swallowed thickly, suddenly realising how tall he was.

‘Yes, thank you General,’ you said, trying to ignore the now very different heat coursing through your body. You took a step back, hoping the distance would help. ‘Just a bout of clumsiness, that’s all. I guess I was more tired than I realised. I’ll just clear these dishes and be off to bed, I think.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ the General protested as you gathered his plate and cutlery in your hands.

You waved him off. ‘It’s fine. No point calling someone else to do it. And the kitchens are on the way to the servants’ quarters anyway.’

At his reluctant nod, you gave a small bow and shuffled past him. You paused at the door, however; it didn’t feel right to just leave. ‘Goodnight, General,’ you said, hoping you weren’t pushing the familiarity between you too far.

The General smiled back at you, relieving you of your worries.

‘Goodnight, Y/N.’

[headspace-hotel]

i know that personally, as a trans person, i don’t like when people i follow argue with terfs because then i have to be exposed to their rhetoric on my dash and it upsets me a lot, but for me personally, what bothers me is seeing a bunch of long threads in a row, whether they’re the same thread or different ones. however, there’s a difference between a trans person being upset by this and a TERF being upset by this that you can clearly tell—trans people will usually just ask the person to tag any arguments with terfs/transphobes or any mention of them, so that we can blacklist them and scroll past the transphobia easily without actually seeing it. sometimes trans people will be upset about the person arguing with transphobes even if they tag it, but we can literally always unfollow, it’s not that hard. TERFs will ask you to stop arguing with them, period, and the thing is, they’re not asking because they don’t want to see the arguments, they’re asking because they don’t want you to cause other TERFs, the ones who maybe believe a little less firmly in TERF rhetoric, to start questioning things after you poke holes in their logic. so unfollowing or blacklisting isn’t going to resolve the problem they have with it.

so, IMO as a trans person who doesn’t like seeing TERF/transphobic rhetoric on my dash, if you blacklist the content as terf/transphobia tw or something similar, and someone still decides you need to stop arguing with transphobes, and claims they’re trans, they’re most likely lying about it and are probably transphobic and mad that there’s a possibility their cult could start losing members over it. :/

^100% this.

But from reading their posts, it's definitely also that they really, really, really like having access to plenty of people who have little firsthand experience of radfem rhetoric.

TERFs constantly talk about how statements like "dont reblog from terfs, don't give terfs a platform!" hide what they're actually saying. And they constantly say it's because if you actually knew what TERF arguments were, and had spent time talking to them, you would ~realize~ they were reasonable and TERFs were reasonable, not-hateful people.

Literally, this is HOW they "recruit" people. "What do the ~Trans Cultists~ not want you to know, and why don't they want you knowing it?" When people are in the stage of figuring out things—and everybody is at some point—they are extremely vulnerable to the people that are willing to answer questions and reward inquisitiveness.

A lot of things about cults are applicable here. There's a friendly, more innocuous-seeming "front," and then there's the rabbit hole that just gets more and more fucked up.

I've noticed a ton of parallels with antivaxxers. This is what I have observed. It starts out with people having questions about things, or painful experiences they don't know how to process, and then they meet a friendly, super welcoming, very insular community of people that will answer all their questions and sympathize with all their fears and say "Yes, me too" about all their experiences!

And then it turns into an explanation for their experiences, a complete Reason for everything, and then it turns into a deep downward spiral about how the entire world is out to get you, but don't worry, you're safe with us. We know the truth.

And people who get into it that deep often end up being hateful as fuck, and just not caring about others, and all the bigotry and prejudice they have oozes out in ways that are ugly indeed, and you see them and think how does a person get that way?

It's scary shit. And I feel that you have to be like "Look. This is where the rabbit hole goes. This is where you end up. This is the anatomy of the thing, how it works, what it does. This is how you recognize it. This is not just THAT it's wrong and twisted, but WHY."

By the way, I try to tag stuff like this, but if I ever forget, feel free to remind me.

[five-rivers]

@lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks came up with this op!Danny/Marvel AU!

BTW I need help naming this newest proof that I can't keep anything to a short little one-shot.

.

Loki was not, and never had been, a good man. For that matter, whether or not he’d ever been a good boy was debatable. His mother would argue that he had, but she would very likely be the only one. Well, except for Thor, perhaps, but that was because he was an idiot who could drown in three inches of nostalgia. Like he didn’t remember every time Loki had humiliated him. Maybe he didn’t, for all that he kept falling for the same trick over and over again.

It made Loki’s late nights studying the arts of illusion, misdirection, and lying seem redundant. Almost. Not everyone was as dense as his big brother.

No. Loki had never been a good man. He had, however, been a free man.

Free to run or hide. Free to explore the nooks and crannies of Asgard, to uncover her secrets in ways few cared to do. Free to walk hidden paths between the Nine Realms and even farther flung territories, where his people did not and had never ruled, to play games, make deals, have adventures, take risks. To be. To exist as his own creature.

He had been free. He had.

But on one of those little secret excursions, he had discovered something that had made even his flippant, slippery heart clench with fear. A ravening plague, spreading across the stars. The death of half of everything on the horizon.

Loki was not a good man. What cause did he have to care for all the sundry others in the universe? There were too many. It was too much to ask.

But Asgard—His home, even though the had long ago realized the blood in his veins originated on very different soil. That was different.

Asgard, he could help. Asgard could survive.

But it had to be strong. It had to have strong allies. None of this barely-held peace, this enemy eternally at their gates. It needed strong leadership. Not his brother’s simplistic view and longing for the glory of war.

Loki was not a good man. But he was one who could get things done.

Before he knew it, he had burned all his bridges behind him. In one case, a literal bridge that was literally broken.

And he fell.

And he fell.

And he fell right into the hands of the one he had feared enough to do this. Broken enough for poison to drip into the cracks. No one knew where he was, no one could know where he was, except, perhaps, Heimdal, and Loki sincerely doubted Heimdal cared. No one was coming for him. No one was looking for him. No rescue was forthcoming.

He was alone.

Asgardians were considered gods for a reason. Their bodies and minds were much more resilient than the average mortal’s. But Thanos’s people had been titans, and there was a reason for that, too.

Thanos enjoyed breaking him.

And Loki turned his lies on himself. A skilled master of games always had one gifted opponent, even alone. Hadn’t he wanted to rule? To command? To see a world, any world, prostrate at his feet? To be given the recognition and praise of which he was so worth?

To pull something, anything, out of the fire?

(If he had spent less time learning how to spin lies and more on how to see the truth, he might not have believed it. A better, wiser, man would have. But Loki was not a good man. And he was very skilled in his craft.)

So, his new master put a weapon in his hands, and he went off to conquer a world.

.

Danny was used to rude awakenings. He was used to those rude awakenings being full body chills and ghosts, not someone knocking on his door.

Blearily, he pulled himself out from under the blankets. Quasi-military government facility or not, the beds were comfortable. Maybe Mom or Dad had gotten themselves locked out of their room? Or Jazz—No, not Jazz, she hadn’t come with them. She was at college, not being flown places by Mom and Dad’s suspiciously generous new consulting job.

At least it wasn’t the GIW.

He stood on tiptoe (curse his perpetually short body) to peer out the peephole. His parents’ buff, one-eyed, and incredibly imposing new boss stood in front of the door, hands on his hips, slightly sweeping back his long dark coat. If Danny listened carefully, he could hear two other people near the door, and… was that an alarm? Yes. Faint, but present, was a warning klaxon.

Okay. Danny would bet his right arm that something had gone horribly wrong with whatever his parents were consulting on. Didn’t explain why the boss was in front of his door.

Unless they’d gotten the rooms mixed up, somehow?

Ugh. Danny wasn’t paid enough to deal with this.

He opened the door. “What-?”

“Phantom,” intoned eyepatch guy with great solemnity.

Danny immediately tried to close the door. The guy stuck his foot in the jamb, and, sure, Danny could have crushed it, but that would be a jerk move. He didn’t think this guy was going for a pirate look, after all.

“We need your help.”

.

“I’m not sure what you think I can help you with,” yelled Danny over the beating of the helicopter blades. He’d remained stubbornly in human form. “My parents are the scientists. This sounds like a science thing. Not a punching-people thing.”

“We spoke to them earlier,” said Fury, “and we have plenty of scientists working on the theories they brought up. You’re the one with practical experience.”

“Practical experience in what?”

“Interdimensional portals,” said the woman, who had yet to introduce herself.

As if this whole thing wasn’t already giving him a bad feeling. “My parents built an interdimensional portal. Again, you should be talking to them. They’re the ones you’re paying.”

“We could pay you, too,” said Fury, “but we assumed you would want to avoid letting your parents know about this, as you’re still a minor and they have control of your bank accounts.”

Danny stared flatly. “This is blackmail.”

“We aren’t threatening you,” pointed out the woman.

“Emotional blackmail,” said Danny, glaring, daring her to challenge him on whether or not he actually knew what blackmail was.

In the meantime, the helicopter landed. Danny unbuckled and hopped out, trailing slightly awkwardly behind Fury and the woman. He didn’t want to stand out, but he suspected that, being the only kid here and being in the general vicinity of Fury, who radiated authority, that was a lost cause.

“This is Agent Coulson. Coulson, this is Phantom.”

Danny’s mouth went dry(er) at how casual the introduction was. His eyes went nervously to all the other people running around the field. With all the noise, it was unlikely anyone had heard, but still…

“Can you not? Secret identity and all? Unless you’ve told everyone herealready, which, rude.”

Fury sighed. “How bad is it?” he asked Coulson.

“We’re not sure,” said Coulson. “That’s the problem. Big fan of your work, by the way,” he added as an aside to Danny. He glanced at the woman. “Agent Hill.”

“Background?” asked Fury as he led the way into the building.

“The first energy surge was four hours ago. Dr. Selvig’s equipment picked it up – He’s the head scientist on this project.”

“Dr. Selvig isn’t authorized to test,” said Fury. “We wanted to run his plans by the Fentons.”

“He wasn’t testing. He wasn’t even in the room. He called it ‘spontaneous advancement.’”

“It turned itself on?”

“What are the energy levels?” asked Fury before Hill’s question could be answered.

“Climbing,” said Coulson.

“Mr. Fenton,” said Fury, “any comments?”

“Look, I don’t even know what this thing that you built looks like or what it’s a door to.” Danny frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not expecting me to fight whatever comes out of it, are you? Because, unless you’ve got a ghost portal down there, I can’t make guarantees.”

“It’s called the Tesseract,” said Coulson. “It’s supposed to be a connection to the other side of space. A source of unlimited energy. At least,” there was a note of humor in his voice despite the evacuation taking place around them, “that’s what the scientists say.”

“A door to space?” asked Danny, firmly shoving down his excitement at the prospect. “Like, a Stargate?” It was no good, he could practically feel himself sparkling. He took a firm grip of his core and reminded himself he might need to fight before the end of the day.

“Well, no,” said Coulson. “It’s this little… cube… thing.” He made a shape with his hands.

“Oh,” said Danny, mind still whirring. “You know, if it’s really a tesseract, it isn’t a cube in just three dimensions, so bigger things could come out of it than you’d think.” He’d seen some weird portals in the Ghost Zone.

“Well, right now, we’re just getting energy.” They entered a large room with an extremely sci-fi setup. It looked like they were planning to shoot some kind of laser across the room onto a platform surrounded by strange-looking panels. There were men with guns scattered around in what was probably a well thought out formation Danny couldn’t see. There was also a dude with a bow sitting up in the rafters. He frowned down at Danny as he noticed Danny noticing him.

“Dr. Selvig!”

“Director!”

“What do we know?”

Danny allowed himself to be distracted by the centerpiece of the room, a piece of machinery built around what was indeed a little cube thing. He tilted his head and approached, trying to get a better view of it around the people in lab coats and protective gear currently swarming it. He caught mention of radiation a grimaced.

It was unlikely to kill him, but, really, everyone here should probably be wearing more PPE. You never knew what was going to come out of an interdimensional portal, after all. Except trouble. Trouble was a pretty safe bet.

It was pretty. Blue. Reminded him a little of a blue raspberry ice pop. Part of him wanted to lick it. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wind up half what-ever-lived-on-the-other-side on top of his regular ghost nonsense.

“Mr. Fenton?”

Danny jumped and turned, refocusing on the adults, who had multiplied while he’d been daydreaming. The guy with the bow had joined them.

“Mr. Fenton? Like the Doctors Fenton I spoke to earlier?” asked Selvig.

“Yeah, it’s—”

This, of course, was when everything decided to explode. Sort of.

The blue cube shot out a beam of energy that had more than a little in common with the Fenton Bazooka’s portal setting. The beam terminated on the platform, a portal rapidly forming.

Danny slid into a fighting stance, and barely even noticed as blue energy washed over the room, throwing many less-prepared people back.

Something shaped like a man stepped through the portal.

Danny did not break his stance. Still. “An alien,” he whispered, eyes wide. If they were friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space. If they weren’t friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space after Danny beat them up.

(Danny did not go ghost. Did not even think about going ghost. There were too many people here, and the space was too open.)

Fury attempted to negotiate. Danny approved. Not everything that came through an interdimensional portal was necessarily evil.

Except this guy apparently was. Go figure. He could also deflect bullets and was very good with throwing knives, which led to Danny having to pull several of the gun guys out of their own line of fire as well as the alien’s line of knife. Who would have thought an alien’s weapon of choice would be throwing knives? The energy-blasting spear was much more in line with his expectations.

The bow guy proved to be more competent than the gun guys. This didn’t really surprise Danny. Bow guy sort of had to be competent. Otherwise, no way would they let him go around with a bow. Like, seriously. A bow.

Even so, bow guy was fighting an alien and—

“You have heart,” said the alien, raising the spear.

Danny pushed bow guy out of the way, and his mind fuzzed out.

(The human part of it, anyway.)

.

Loki didn’t know what a child was doing here, and he didn’t particularly care. The boy would do for a hostage, at least. He had a mission he had to fulfil, or else…

Or else.

“Please don’t,” he said turning with a shadow of his usual lazy affect, vaguely insulted that the human thought he could be sneaker that him, “I still need that.”

The human went on and on, apparently burdened with the delusion that he was on the same level as Loki.

Loki was burdened with other things. A glorious purpose. Glad tidings. Freedom. What could be better than freedom?

“A world free from what?” asked the human.

“From freedom,” said Loki, and wasn’t that what he believed, now? Wasn’t that what he’d been shown? “Freedom is life’s great lie.” He would know. He was an excellent liar. “Once you accept that, in your heart—” He batted away an arrow and tsked. “Shield me, boy,” he demanded. Had Thanos misrepresented the scepter’s powers? Or was the boy merely—

A dome of green surrounded him and the boy, thrumming with magic the likes of which he had only seen once, in a tome thrice forbidden.

“Oh,” said Loki, almost purring. “You are interesting. What are you?”

“Half human, half ghost,” replied the boy, tersely.

Loki had never heard of such a creature. No matter. He’d be sure to make good use of him.

“Grab the scientist,” he said, nodding at the balding man who had been with his brother when he’d fought the Destroyer in the desert.

Loki wanted the archer. He seemed interesting. Useful.

.

Fenton was under thrall. Phantom knew what that felt like. A hundred feet under red water, trying not to drown, whispers everywhere. Pulling. Pushing. Prodding.

This was different, but the principle was the same.

Neither half of him could truly ‘fight’ the other. Fenton and Phantom were a single entity. Not two in lockstep. Even so.

Fenton grabbed onto Dr. Selvig, as ordered. Phantom made sure that was all they did.

“What are you doing, boy?” snapped Loki. “Follow me! Bring the scientist.”

And so, they followed.

.

Loki breathed. Acquiring Barton had been the right choice. The boy was powerful, but, perhaps because of his unique biology, did not have Barton’s presence of mind, and couldn’t have led him to such wonderful allies.

Allies.

These weren’t truly his allies. Nor were they subjects. They were…

Loki forced himself to breathe. He just had to follow the mission. Follow the mission, let Thanos’s army through. He’d been promised this world. He would have this world.

And then he could be… His mind stuttered over the next word, and he shook his head, trying to drive out the painful buzz of Thanos’s herald and mouthpiece trying to contact him.

He looked up at the drones bustling around, all according to his will. Except the boy, who stared at him, somehow managing to be both utterly blank and challenging at the same time.

He was alone, here.

He was alone.

But what did it matter? Bad men always wound up alone, and Loki… Loki could never be a good man.

[babyboibucky]

Should’ve Known Better

Pairing: EB!Frank x Reader

Summary: You should have known better than to sleep with a friend.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, FWB set-up, a little bit of toxic shit, angst

A/N: Frank got the most votes when I asked which other Seb character I should write for, so here it is! This is very personal to me lmfao it’s somewhat based on my own experience that really fucked me up a couple of years ago aksncajscna no but for real, stay away from the friends with benefits kind of relationship if you can’t keep shit purely sexual lmao also some guys are just fucking assholes even if they’re your friend lol

ALSO, I tagged those who are in my Everything Bucky Tag List. I’m not sure if I’ll write more Frank in the future too so I won’t be creating a separate tag list for him yet.

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Do you love me?"

It was a simple question that was supposed to make you think. Given your experiences and your personality in general, you were supposed to cringe and ignore it. Maybe even make a joke out of it, especially that it was Frank who was asking you this question.

He wasn't supposed to ask it too. He wasn't one to ask such thing, not especially with the relationship that the both of you have. It was clear from the get go that this was nothing serious.

So why was he asking it now?

And why did you respond to it right away, as if you knew your answer even before he asked?

-

"Come on, it'll be fun."

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"I'll make you feel good, you won't regret this."

It did feel good, you were going to give Frank that. Possibly the best, even. But the latter part? You weren't so sure. Were you regretting it? Honestly, no.

Maybe not yet.

You'd rather not think about it for now.

"What's there to lose? We know each other too much to develop feelings anyway, you said so yourself."

Oh there's plenty to lose. Maybe a decade's worth of platonic (was it really platonic from the beginning though?) friendship. Your self-esteem was on the line too, but you didn't know it yet. You'll get there though, whether you like it or not.

"I'm free next Friday, come over. Spend the night with me. What do you say?"

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"Next Friday. I'll see you, okay?"

You should've said no. You should have known better.

"Ugh, fine."

But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

-

That first night with Frank was something else. It was fun and he kept his promise to make you feel good. So, so good. You never thought that sex could be that fucking good. At least, not with your previous partners. Not that you had many in the first place.

But god, Frank knew what he was doing and he loved doing things to you. He loved the entire process of knowing your body, what you liked and what you loved. How you liked to be kissed and touched and fucked.

He studied your body like his fucking life depended on it and you let him. You let him own your body because you needed someone to. You needed to feel something, wanted to have a purpose even for just a short while, even if it meant being someone's fuck buddy.

You felt lost for the longest time, but as you laid on Frank's bed with his tongue lapping up your cunt, you actually felt like you belonged somewhere.

-

You weren't a booty call, definitely not. And when things escalated between the both of you, Frank was already single and had broken off with his recent girlfriend, Daphne. You weren't a doormat nor a side chick. Frank had been your friend for the longest time, one of your closest actually. He knew you the best and not just physically. Frank knew the darkest parts of you the same way you knew him like the back of your hand. He was the most open to you, he said so himself.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." he told you one time.

Frank wasn't afraid to show you his true colors; how he wasn't the kind to settle for one or how he would often end up with someone immature or toxic. He himself was toxic and for the most part, you tolerated him.

That was the mistake on your part.

You let him be himself, that's why you held a special place in his heart. Not even his past girlfriends could get rid of you. You were untouchable.

"Are you sure she's fine with us going out?" you asked Frank one time, as the both of you headed to the movies.

He scoffed, "Yeah, don't worry. I already told her you're my best friend. You're off limits." he chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside the cinema.

"You're fine." he reassured again, this time wrapping his arm around your shoulder and then cradling your head playfully.

-

Looking back, you sometimes ponder whether the friendship was really platonic. You were sure of it when the both of you first became friends; he was a couple of years older than you. You sort of looked up to him like an older brother for the first few years of your relationship. And he was very caring too, always looking out for you.

Your other friends were the first one to notice the closeness. They often told you that Frank seemed to have a thing for you. You brushed it off though, saying that it was impossible.

His girlfriend then was an acquaintance of yours. She was nice and wasn't bothered by how Frank was affectionate towards you.

Indeed, you were untouchable. You were the best friend after all.

-

"We fought again."

You rolled your eyes at Frank as he sat across from you at a local coffee shop near your place. It was your birthday and as always, you spent the most part of it with Frank.

It was like a tradition already, to celebrate your birthday with Frank first before you went out with your friends. Or even family. It was that kind of friendship.

"I'm sorry but who are we talking about again?" you joked.

Frank made a face, "Daphne." he responded. "I just told you about her like, two days ago."

You snickered, "I was kidding. But honestly though, you have to stop flirting with other girls. It's been really difficult for me to keep track of your record, Frank. And are you and Daphne even official?" you asked, taking a sip from your cold brew.

He rubbed his chin and shrugged, "Sorta. Well, we were official two weeks ago. Now though, I'm not so sure. Here's the thing, Daphne can be really..." he said, trying to search for the right words.

You hummed and shook your head, "Immature?" you said and mindlessly scrolled through your phone.

"You should really stop dating girls who are immature, Frank. I swear to god, this is like...I don't know, the fifth time you dated someone like her? Why don't you settle for someone who actually acts her age?" you blurted out.

Frank groaned and transferred to the seat next to you, his body facing yours and his hand landing on your thigh. You didn't mind, didn't think it was too touchy or intimate for someone who was in a relationship. It was pretty common for Frank to be this touchy with you anyway, you never paid much attention to it nor given it any malice.

"We fought because of you actually." Frank admitted with an apologetic smile.

Your head snapped towards him, a scowl etched on your face. "What did I do?!" you asked in defense.

"It was my fault. Daph saw your photo inside my wallet." he said.

"You should really throw away that photo. Jesus, why do you still have it anyway?" you complained.

Frank scoffed, "That's my favorite photo of you. I don't wanna get rid of it."

That was the last day that you considered your friendship with Frank platonic.

-

Come over

I miss u xoxo

Miss eating u out

Miss ur moans, wanna hear them again

You groaned at the continuous notifications that flooded your phone. While you were at work. After that first night with Frank, he had gotten extra clingy. No lies though, it felt nice to be wanted like this.

im free nxt Sat

Yay

Cant wait to see u, missed u a lot

dude, we were at the mall together just last wk

U really dont get attached do u?

Frowning at Frank's reply, you honestly didn't understand what he was implying.

what u mean?

Nothing

Work kept you busy for the entire week, with Frank bombarding you with sweet texts. You've avoided being sweet with him, it felt wrong. You weren't an affectionate person but Frank was, it was sort of one-sided. It wasn't a big deal anyway.

No one from the rest of your friends knew what had become of your friendship with Frank. You just thought it wasn't something that should be revealed. It was like your and Frank's little secret. You had to admit, the thrill only made the sex better.

Whenever the both of you went out with other people, the tension was there and it was fun. It was fun trying to brush off the way Frank's hand would steal touches from your waist, or how he'd subtly squeeze your thigh. The looks you exchanged from across the room; how Frank's "fuck me" eyes were meant for you and only you.

Things like that made you feel a certain type of way. But you never dwelled on it, or at least, you thought you didn't.

-

"Yeah, fuck...just like that, baby."

Frank's fingers dug deeply into the skin of your ass as he guided your hips. You gripped onto the back of the couch as you bounced on his cock, head thrown back from pleasure as Frank suckled one of your nipples. You could feel each of his fingers pressing down against your skin, it's probably going to leave bruises again.

"Frank, shit. I'm close." you panted against the skin of his neck, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him close.

Frank grunted and took your face in between his palms, forcing you to look at him as he began to thrust his hips upwards, eliciting a high-pitched whimper from you.

"Wanted to see you like this ever since." he breathed out, pressing his lips against your open mouth.

"Wanted you since we met, d'you know that?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so he could nibble on your throat.

You shook your head and gripped his shoulders, nails scratching at his skin as you continued to ride his cock, "God, Frank...so close." you moaned.

You felt Frank's lips curl into a smirk against your neck, his fingers gripping your hair to keep you in place as his other hand slipped in between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it to help you reach your climax.

Every single time he touched you, you felt like your entire body was on fire. You felt the most alive, the most free whenever Frank fucked you. Maybe because he was truly gifted in bed or maybe he just knew your body and how to make it sing.

Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at you whenever you fall apart for him. Like he only had eyes for you, like it was only you that he could see.

Sweaty bodies and hoarse voices, the smell of smoke and sex lingering in the air. It was such a familiar ambiance by now. You liked how the aftermath of fucking Frank was never awkward, if any, it was a comfortable experience with the both of you just talking casually about how each other's day went.

"So I'm talking to this girl..." Frank said, turning you around so he could spoon you. Oh, the irony of the intimacy and conversation.

"Where'd you meet this girl?" you asked.

"Tinder." Frank snorted before pressing a kiss on your nape. "No, but she's different. I don't know, there's something about her."

You merely hummed in response.

"Think I might ask her out."

The first sting. The first realization. The first denial.

You should've said no. You should've known better.

-

The art exhibit wasn't a flop, but you wouldn't call it a success either. When you got a call from the organizer asking whether they can include your paintings in the exhibit, you said yes instantly. What can you say? You were a struggling artist who was seeking validation.

But now that you stood in front of your works with barely ten people attending the one-day exhibit, you thought that this wasn't a validation. It felt like a wake up call that maybe, art wasn't your calling and that you should probably give up on your dream.

"These are amazing."

You were on the verge of breaking down when you heard his voice. Turning around, you were surprised to see Frank. He was nodding his head as he approached you, his eyes scanning each of your painting.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had work." you asked.

Frank gave you a face, "Did you really think I'd miss out on your first exhibit?" he said and pulled you into a warm embrace.

"I'm proud of you." he whispered before kissing the crown of your head.

One validation from Frank was all it took for the walls to crumble down. He was the one who had been there for you all along and that was why you completely trusted him.

Frank will never hurt you, he'll never bring you down.

Or so you thought.

-

"Do you love me?"

It was a question that was supposed to make you think. But you didn't, because even before Frank decided to ask you that, you already had your answer.

You knew your answer for the longest time now, but decided to lock it into a box that you kept in the deepest part of your heart. It remained there unbothered and almost forgotten, up until this point.

That's why it was so easy for you to respond to it without even batting an eye.

"Yes."

It was too late when you realized that you had just admitted that you were in love with Frank. But you felt like it was the right time for you to bring out the key to that box, open it and just set your truth free.

They said that the truth will set you free, but why does it feel like it only imprisoned you?

"Shit, I was kidding." Frank said, his face panicked and body stiff from your unexpected admission.

Before you could even say something, Frank let out a nervous laugh as he ran his hand through his locks. "Wow, I didn't...are you serious?" he asked again.

It took you everything to brush off the pain, "Yeah, but it's no big deal. Come on." you shook your head and forced out a breathy chuckle.

Frank heaved out a deep sigh, "Fuck, I was messing with you. Are you sure it's fine? I mean, would this change anything?" he asked.

You deadpanned, "No, Frank. It wouldn't change anything. Like I said, get over it. It's not like I'm in love with you. I just love you...if that makes sense? You're my friend." you explained, more like lied.

"Look, it's not like I'm unattracted to you. I like you, I like spending time with you. It's just that I sort of don't see myself committing to you."

It didn't sink in to you immediately, Frank's statement. You didn't pay it any mind because again, you knew Frank. He wasn't one to commit so that was fine, you understand where he was coming from. It's not like you were going to force yourself on him too. But then you accidentally glanced at his phone and saw the messages he'd been exchanging with a certain someone.

When r u coming home?

In a little while, Daph

That night, Frank's statement hit you like a ton of bricks but again, you chose to deny what you actually felt. It's fine.

You're fine.

-

You should've said no. You should've known better.

Those words rang in your ears on the day that you found out. Your body turned cold, your vision blurred and your head spun. You'd never experienced hurt and anger like this, the kind that consumed you.

The kind that made you realized and admit that fuck, you'd truly fallen for Frank only for him to break your heart.

It didn't help that you were having such a terrible day at work. And Frank was so sweet to ask you whether you wanted to meet up with him. Not for sex, but to talk. The sex came rarely recently and was replaced with wholesome trips to the grocery, shit like that.

You knew there was something special going on. Even after he told you that he didn't see himself being with you, there was something.

Apparently, that something was just an assumption. Because when you asked Frank to meet you up that night, he said he couldn't and needed to be somewhere. That he'd meet with you the next day instead, a promise.

But then you saw him post a photo of him and Daphne. And it made your blood boil.

u back together?

No. Not really, been trying to fix it but u know how it is.

if ur trying to fix it with her then im out, frank

Wait what? Hey, are u mad?

r u fucking serious? u knew i love u and u come here parading ur ex, what the fuck is that all abt?

Shit, hey. Look, let's talk later, okay? Im out, will txt u when Im free.

Frank didn't text you back for the rest of the day.

-

You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

Were you regretting it? Yes. Sometimes.

You didn't know which hurt the most, the fact that Frank kept you in the dark while he was trying to patch things up with his ex, or that he considered you his best friend and still chose to break your heart.

He knew you the best, your relationship and trust issues and out of all the people, he really had to be the one to fuck you up the most. You trusted him so much, trusted him not to hurt you. Hell, if he doesn't want to commit then that's fine. But for him to treat you like a second option? Fuck that.

For him to confuse you with his actions, the intimacy...were all of those even real? All the times he came to your support when you had no one, when he was there for you on days you felt alone. What were those? He made you feel so fucking special, like it was possible to actually turn the friendship into something more than just fucking.

All this time you thought it was one-sided because you never actually showed Frank how much you meant to him the same way he did to you. Turned out that it was one-sided, but only because you were the only one who fell.

The following day, you received a voicemail from Frank. You pondered whether you were ready to listen to it but at the same time, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was pretty stupid, he fucked you up and there was no excuse for that. But the friendship you had with him had a strong hold on you.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That was my mistake." he started off. "I thought that this was really just sex and having fun, but I want you to know that I like you. I really do, you're special to me. Please give me a chance to make things right. Daph and I...I want to end things with her. Please stay, I don't know what I'd do without you."

“I just didn’t expect that you’d end up falling for me, I mean shit. You know the real me, how fucked up I am when it comes to relationships. Just please...please stay?”

Did you stay? Sort of. But you kept your distance, didn't meet up with Frank after that and only responded to his texts occasionally. Did he end things with Daph?

He didn't.

He said he would but instead, they got back together.

It was fucking selfish of Frank to ask for you to stay only for him to get back together with his ex. It'd be better for him to just slap you in the face then.

Being told that he couldn't see himself committing to you but then going back with his ex was the cherry on top. God, if that didn't mess up with your self-worth.

You totally stopped talking to Frank, ignored his texts and calls. You stayed away from him, tried to get over him and eventually, you did. But you'd be lying if you said that he never left an effect on you. Because he did, Frank did a number on you and it would take you a long fucking time to completely recover from the damage he inflicted on you.

You should've said no. You should've known better. But you said yes because you didn't know any better.

And that's okay, because there's nothing wrong with taking risks and ending up in heartbreak.

You live, you love and you learn.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii​ @jessou893​ @stealapizzamyheart​ @bagelofthelord​ @mxnt​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​ @ohladymacbeth​ @wildflowergubler​ @supraveng​ @twinerd14​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​ @charminivy​ @amelia-song-pond​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​ @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine​ @sipsteacasually​ @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[imagines-hoarder]

House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta​ for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.

[yuyuntianyu]

[2HA analysis blog] To love you is torment but leave you I cannot

I wanted to write this (hopefully not-too-long) blog to give 2HA fandom a different perspective of the events in the past timeline. I noticed that there are many little things that could not be carried over to the English language. These little things can give more explanations to our characters’ actions so I hope sharing this would help the novel make more sense. This blog focuses on Taxian-jun and Chu Fei.

Warning: Spoilers ! ! ! Taxian-jun and Chu Fei are their own trigger warnings ! ! !

Despite the novel having 350 chapters, we really know little about what happened between Taxian-jun and Chu Fei besides the abuse and mistreatment and that little is relayed to us by the Most Unreliable Narrator of the Cultivation World - Mo Ran Mo Weiyu. If we only take Mo Ran for his words then a lot of his and Chu Wanning’s decisions told later on would seem irrational and almost silly. So let’s dive deep in the past so we can understand how the great cultivator Beidou Xian-zun could raise such a dumb husky since the events in the past would explain the more irrational decisions made by both main characters.

Given Mo Ran’s narrator is about as reliable as his character in the first 120 chapters, we have to look at other more subtle clues and some of them are due to cultural and linguistic differences.

1. I used to like you a lot

At his coronation day, Taxian-jun stated that he once greatly looked up to Chu Wanning and that he used to love and respect him dearly. Maybe I am reading into this too much but this is my theory: The flower could erase the memory itself but cannot erase the feelings associated with the memory. He had his memories of the good deeds Chu Wanning did for him erased but still remembered that he used to love and respect him. It doesn’t make sense unless it is indeed that the flower could not erase its host’s feelings. So throughout the novel, Mo Ran’s complicated emotions are complicated possibly because he could not remember how he came to have these feelings. Similarly, Hua Binan could mess with the undead Taxian-jun’s memory to a great extent but could not erase his obsession with Chu Wanning.

2. I gave you a new title

Chu Fei. 楚妃. In the Imperial Chinese harem hierarchy, “Fei” means consort and not concubine (嬪 “Pín"). Consorts were highly respected positions in the palace weidling much political power and were only seconds to the Empress Consort. Another major difference is a consort would be married to the emperor while a concubine would not. So if Taxian-jun had truly wanted to only humiliate Chu Wanning and keep him for the carnal pleasures (I am intentionally ignoring his breeding kink completely), he would keep him as a concubine but he gave Chu Wanning the Consort title and hid him from the world. At this point, Taxian-jun had almost lost Chu Wanning once and had spent a lot of effort to bring him back from the verge of death after hearing Chu Wanning’s apology so his anger might have softened a bit. Also, given that Chu Wanning is a man, having a legitimate offspring ( (I am still intentionally ignoring Mo Ran's breeding kink completely) is not an issue so although this is not clearly stated, I believe Taxian-jun wanted to force a relationship and somewhat proper marriage on Chu Wanning. Another hint of this is in an Extra chapter where Taxian-jun tried to get Chu Wanning a birthday gift. He recalled that in his past timeline, he had wanted Chu Wanning to give him something on his birthday as well and that he had wanted Chu Wanning’s heart.

3. Shizun likes to write letters and poems

On Book 3 Chapter 247, Chu Wanning sat down and wrote a few unsent letters to the people he used to know. He also wrote a few lines of poetry. In the first few lines taken from different literature works, he expressed his sense of helplessness and his wish to remain untainted despite the circumstances. The more important two lines are from a poem written by a real poet named Fàn Chéngdà ( 范成大) who lived in the 12th century Southern-Song dynasty. The two lines read:

“May I be like the stars, may you* be as the moon. Night after night, may we shine together side by side.” **

*In the original work, the character used instead of you is “jun” 君 (as in 踏仙君 Taxian-jun). 君 could mean king, emperor, lord, or gentleman ** This is my rough translation - I haven’t found an English version of this poem

These two lines are commonly used in romantic novels as a way to express one’s unchanging love and loyalty to another person despite the circumstances. He compared himself as the stars and wanted to remain by Taxian-jun whom he viewed as the moon. Chu Wanning wrote this to express his willingness to stay but he would never voice this out loud. In the next timeline, he did the same thing by quietly loving and caring for Mo Ran 1.0 despite the mistreatment and was content with never expressing his feelings vocally. Mo Ran was rather uneducated and thus could not fully comprehend these two lines and misunderstood that Chu Wanning was missing Xue Meng.

4. You are all I have left

In chapter 252, after Chu Wanning returned to The Red Lotus Pavilion, he found Taxian-jun already waiting for him. Taxian-jun told Chu Wanning about a dream he had and said:

“I am afraid I don’t resent you… I want to resent you… Otherwise, I…” “In the end, it’s just you and I”.

This is not the first time he expressed that Chu Wanning was all he had left or they only had each other. I believe that at this point, Taxian-jun might have somewhat believed Chu Wanning and recognized that his memories were missing. His words and behaviors seemed a lot more gentle and he mentioned they did have periods of time where their marriage was easier. I believe it was after this point. He told us about the numerous times he attempted to spoil his consort or expressed his affection through gifts, a trip outside the palace, goods, jewels, and even teaching Chu Wanning how to cook or personally taking care of Chu Wanning when he was sick. At one point, Taxian-jun expressed his wish for a more peaceful marriage with Chu Wanning through his breeding kink by saying that if they had children, perhaps they would be more civil towards each other.

Edit: I really wanted to go about this blog without having to refer to their particular taste in bed

5. Are you still mad?

This is a smaller detail but in the original text and the Vietnamese official translation, the way they talked to each other had a bit more of the “husband-wife” dynamic. Especially Chu Wanning ( l┐(︶▽︶)┌ ), the comment section said he sounded like when your wife is mad that you didn’t take out the trash but still says: “I’m not mad” and Taxian-jun, the husband, would come around and ask “Are you still mad at me?” after every fight.

6. I did not think you would really leave me.

On Chapter 99, Mo Ran recalled the fight between him and Chu Wanning after an assassination attempt. In order to convince Mo Ran to not go to Taxue Palace, Chu Wanning said:

“If you destroy Taxue palace, if you kill Xue Meng, I will die before you”.

Now the line “I will die before you” in my language is less of a suicidal ideation but more of a threat. It's used when a person already knows that they are important to the other person and is using their own death as a threat to make the other person do something. This line is thrown around a lot during heated arguments between people close to each other but they almost never mean it. (Even my mom said it numerous times before T_T . I personally think it’s manipulative). Therefore, it is understandable Taxian-jun did not take this line seriously and replied almost mockingly. After all, they had been married for almost a decade at that point, Taxian-jun probably felt somewhat comfortable that Chu Wanning would not do anything reckless. He could not foresee that Chu Wanning meant what he said and actually followed through with his words. I believe that if Taxian-jun had known that Chu Wanning was serious, Taxian-jun would not have gone to Taxue Palace. 7. Don't leave me, ok?

Then Chu Wanning died and Mo Ran spent two years alone. In those two years, we know he basically went insane because of grief, talked to a corpse everyday, and deep fried his Empress Consort. But strangely enough, Mo Ran 1.0 did not immediately mention this after being reborn although it was the main reason he committed suicide. And at that point, it had been well over a decade since Shi Mei faked his death in the past timeline, yet Mo Ran 1.0 seemed to still hold a lot of resentment towards Chu Wanning. Also, he said he could accept Shi Mei’s death but would never accept Chu Wanning’s. So honestly, it did not make sense to me the first time I read the novel and I believed Mo Ran resented Chu Wanning for a different reason.

The answer was first hinted at in chapter 9 when Mo Ran scolded the sleeping Chu Wanning. He called Chu Wanning a donkey hoof (lol) and this is actually an idiom to scold someone who is disloyal and unfaithful in love. The puzzles came together when the undead Taxian-jun showed up and immediately went after Chu Wanning (and not Shi Mei). He believed Chu Wanning used his death to hurt him and was angry at Chu Wanning for leaving him. This is the resentment Mo Ran 1.0 carried over to the next timeline. He hated Chu Wanning for abandoning him. This is solidified in chapter 262 by the undead Taxian-jun pleading to Chu Wanning:

“Don’t betray me” “Don’t leave me the second time. The first time you left, I could choose death as a relief. This time, even death is not an option any more… I won’t be able to bear it…”

So there it is! I hope this blog brings some new information and feel free to discuss! Let me know if you have any questions for me ＼(￣▽￣)／

Disclaimer: Plenty of this is my conclusion drawn from the already ambiguous original text and various translations. Unless Meatbun says it, it’s not canon. I am looking at the novel in three different languages so I might have made some mistakes. Pls forgive. Also, I am not making excuses for Mo Ran 0.5’s actions nor am I justifying the abuse in any way. Chu Wanning never said Mo Ran 0.5 was innocent of these crimes nor will I.

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

if I can never give you peace — two || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 5.8k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers // Ao3

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): Descriptions of violence, Threats, kind of dark in general

First · Previous · Next

The car is late, you think as you smooth over the fabric of your skirt, your mouth twisted in a disapproving scowl. Annoyance is one of the few emotions that ever appear on your face, and you don’t even bother to hide it. You have only been standing there, waiting, for a few minutes, but it already disrupts your perfectly well-oiled routine. This is just one of the many changes that have come with Jungkook taking over, but it could be the one you are the least fond of.

You used to have the routine down to a T. You knew exactly when to leave your apartment so that the car would stop in front of you right as you reached the pavement. There were small hiccups every now and then — traffic, last-minute phone calls —, but most of the time, it went perfectly. You liked that. Having that kind of control, when your life had always been completely out of your hands, was comforting.

That went out the window the day you started working for Jungkook.

When the car stops in front of you, five minutes, that’s three-hundred seconds, after the agreed-upon time, you take a short breath before opening the door and stepping in.

There, of course, is your new boss, sitting with his legs widely spread on the leather seat. He changed your discreet sedan for a limousine, which you find obnoxious, but you didn’t protest. You liked to think that you were better than that at picking your battles

“Mr. Jeon,” you say with a nod, voice even.

Jungkook grins when you call him that. You know he enjoys the title, the power it indicates, particularly since hybrids are supposed to only ever have the same last name as their owners.

“Lot of work to be done today,” he comments, and you know he’s just saying that to rile you up. You used to report to Mr. X, but you worked on your own more often than not. Now, you’re basically Jungkook’s glorified secretary. You wouldn’t particularly mind the change if it didn’t mean that you had to sit and watch him superbly ignore your carefully crafted schedule, as he had every single day for the past week.

“Indeed,” you reply without batting an eyelid. “This morning, you have a meeting with Suga,” this one he should go to, he never misses them, “then you are supposed to eat with Fred Lucas,” chances were he wouldn’t show up to that and make you take him to a fancy restaurant instead, and you would be the one to have to handle the situation with him, “and later today I think it would be important for you to pay a visit to the Mystery Room.” That place was one of the few legal aspects of the business at the moment, if you ignore the drugs that get sold there, and it was not a location you should lose right now. “They have been quite… difficult, since the change in direction.”

That last one is new, and you’re not sure how Jungkook will react to it. Of course, there is plenty more work to do, but you’re trying out new methods to get him to do at least what really matters. You don’t understand why he would hire you if he doesn’t let you do your job, but hey, at least you’re alive. And so is your family.

You don’t know how long that will last, though. Unless Jungkook seriously gets his act together, it won’t take long for someone to think that they can do the same thing he did, and have him murdered. You’re even mildly surprised it hasn’t happened yet. That’s the thing, when a leader gets killed. It weakens the whole structure, and it gives people ideas.

The grin disappears from Jungkook’s face and he nods gravely at that last piece of information. That catches your eye, because it’s new. You tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, he spent the last week riding the high of his victory against Mr. X, and that he will be efficient if there’s trouble, at least.

“Cancel that second thing,” he says. “I want to eat at that restaurant I went to last week. You should get me a reservation there.”

Or not.

“But you can go meet him,” he adds, and you blink.

“Mr. Lucas is expecting to see you,” you say, in case you weren’t clear.

“And he doesn’t get to demand my presence like that,” Jungkook snaps. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from wincing. His voice sounds harsh, cutting. Dangerous. “Did he think that I’d go ask for treats because a human joined us? That’s not how that shit works.”

Okay. He’s not wrong here, but you don’t know about this— approachto the situation. Fred is, indeed, one of the two human leaders who decided to immediately join Jungkook when the news of the death of Mr. X and the uprising of hybrids in various parts of your branches in the city spread. You wouldn’t be surprised if he expected a treatment of favor for that, too, but you’re not sure letting him know how little his gesture was appreciated was the way to go.

“I don’t think—”

“He’s replaceable,” Jungkook says with a dismissive movement of the wrist. “I’ll swap him for one of my men the second he makes a mistake. It would be a lot better if no one forgot that.”

The look he gives you makes his message crystal clear. You feel your mouth getting dry, but you know nothing is showing in your expression, and that at least is a relief.

“I’ll go to the meeting and get you your reservation, then,” you say, pulling out your phone. “Does the rest of the schedule work for you?”

Jungkook frowns, and the tiniest feeling of satisfaction spreads in your chest. You know he’s just applying pressure and waiting for you to crack, but you won’t.You’re used to contorting yourself to please everyone. You’ve made it work for years, and it will take much more than those childish games for you to snap.

Or, at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past week.

“Fine.” Then he closes his eyes and leans back in the seat. You raise an eyebrow at the sight. You know it’s not because he trusts you, but because he doesn’t think you have the guts to do anything to him — and because, even if you did, he’s pretty confident he wouldn’t have any trouble stopping you. You hate that you find something endearing in that vision. Jungkook was genetically designed to be handsome, and he is.More than that, though, when you look at him right now, even though his long bunny ears are skillfully hidden under a headband, he looks cute.

And he could — and would — take less than a second to snap your neck.

“This afternoon should be fun at least,” he mumbles under his breath, and you hide your grimace.

Shit. That can’t be good.

It’s been clear to you from the very first day that Suga knows exactly what he is doing. It’s also been clear that this isn’t his scene. Being at the forefront of operations, taking the lead — it’s obvious that he would much rather stay in the shadows. You’re not sure how important he was to Jungkook’s organization before, since no one has bothered trying to inform you of that, but you suspect that he’s usually more the type to be in the field.

Right now, though, he’s standing in front of a small group, exposing what the recent developments have been. Sitting behind Jungkook, you listen to him attentively. Those reunions should become less frequent, but right now things could still change completely, and you cannot afford to be taken by surprise.

You are, however, starting to feel less and less comfortable with the fact that nothing seems to be coming out of them. Sure, Yoongi informs you of the people who have sided with Jungkook and of those who are openly opposed to him — a minority, so far — but there is a large group in between that seems to be in no hurry to take position. And you don’t like it.

It hasn’t been long since Jungkook has taken over, but you should at least have gotten someintel by now. You’re not sure what isn’t working here. For now, you don’t want to risk provoking anyone by offering your services. Worry is starting to gnaw at you, though. You could all be driving into a dead-end street at full speed, and that stupid struggle you’re having with Jungkook just isn't worth dying over.

“So not much has changed,” Jungkook comments, tapping his fingers onto the table. He looks nonchalant, but you notice a muscle in his jaw twitching. You wonder if he understands more than he lets on.

“Things have been stagnant,” Yoongi admits without batting an eye. “There hasn’t been any open rebellion, but communication is lacking.”

“That needs to get better.”

“We’re working on it.”

They probably are, but it doesn’t look like that’s going well. Word has reached your ears that some of the branches have been keeping hybrids at bay as discreetly as possible.

“What about that Mystery Room thing?” Jungkook asks, frowning. “What’s going on over there?”

“The what?” Yoongi frowns.

Jungkook looks puzzled — pissed, actually — for a second, then glances at you over his shoulder, and the attention of the whole room suddenly shifts to you. You straighten your back, swallow.

“The owner of the bar has missed a payment to us,” you state calmly, “and it seems that he has no intention of making it and is trying to get out of his contract with us. It would be better if we didn’t lose it right now.”

“What do you mean, ‘it seems’?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his golden eyes at you. His voice sounds more like a hiss, and this time, you struggle to hide your reaction. You haven’t forgotten what it felt like, when you thought he was going to kill you. It’s affected you more than you’d like to admit.

“I have a contact who—”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, and you close your mouth.

“I’m going there today,” Jungkook informs him, and Yoongi nods.

“I’ll be around.”

The two men have a silent exchange of looks. Their relationship is somewhat atypical, not something Mr. X had with anyone. It looks like they genuinely rely on and trust each other. You suppose someone else would find it touching, but you don’t have it in yourself. Especially not when that means they both have it out for you.

“Haven’t you been following what we’ve been talking about here for the past week?” Jungkook snarks at you, and you blink. “Any information you get from now on needs to get to Suga so he can factor it in.” At that, you give him a disbelieving look. That just won’t work. It can’t. Not for the first time, you wonder how much he underestimates you, exactly. If he knew anything about the way you work, about how many contacts you have and how much information you’re usually juggling with, he would never ask that of you.

Yet you nod. You don’t know yet if you’ll send a believable amount of intel to Suga, or just absolutely drown him under it until they tell you to stop, but once more, this just isn’t worth fighting over.

Especially when fighting over something can so easily mean dying over it, in your current situation.

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

He looks displeased, and you know it’s because all he’s waiting for is for you to slip.

“I shouldn’t even bring you to these meetings. You’re not even taking any notes. That’s fucking useless.”

It takes everything in you to bite back a scoff at that. You could tell him you don’t need to take notes when Yoongi is talking about minimal changes in a landscape you know on the tip of your fingers, that maybe you would if he said anything of value, and that this wouldn’t be an issue if people actually feared him.

You marvel at how annoyed that quip makes you. You suppose you don’t like it when your competence is questioned. You don’t like the threat either, though. You don’t want to risk falling out of the loop.

“I’ve gotten you a reservation at that restaurant,” you say. “If things are done here, I’ll be on my way to meet Mr. Lucas.”

Changing the subject. Deflecting. Trying your best to live to see another day. It seems like it’s all you’ve been doing for the past week. You know you can keep it up for a long time, you’re patient enough. You also know that this game is set up to make you lose.

Right now, as Jungkook looks at you, clearly not amused by your attitude, there is a terrifying moment during which you fear that he might just drop the charade. The only point of this whole thing is to get rid of you. He could decide he only wants to do that any second.

“Yeah, right. Be on your way.”

He dismisses you like you’re some low lackey, but that, at least, isn’t anything new, and you know how to handle it. You bow politely, then exit the room.

“You really wanna keep her around?” Yoongi asks once you’re gone, and Jungkook groans.

He doesn’t know why he had expected you to break easily. He’d seen you work for Mr. X, do that same shit he makes you do and survive as long as you had, so he should have known you’d be good at it. He supposes he’d been used to you making decisions for him, back then, and had thought that was a normal thing for you, that you wouldn’t enjoy being in the position of taking orders. But you were, after all, just someone who worked for others that whole time.

Not that he gives a fuck about it. He couldn’t care less why you did the things you did. All he wants is to give you a taste of your own medicine. Dangling a false chance of survival in front of your eyes and let you handle the rest yourself. So as long as you push through… well. He’ll let it slide.

It’s not like you can keep doing it forever anyway.

Fred Lucas worries you. He’s always smiled too widely, been too loud, made too many jokes. You know Mr. X considered him to be some sort of buffoon, but also kept his distance from him. Mr. X didn’t like people who pretended to wear their hearts on their sleeves.

“Always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N),” he greets you warmly when you walk up to him and you give him a nod. If he’s upset that Jungkook isn’t there, he doesn’t show it, just like you don’t show your distaste for his use of your first name. “I’d like to discuss with just you, though,” he adds, eyeing Hector, who’s standing beside you. The fact that you still have him by your side is the only good thing that has come from working for Jungkook so far.

You don’t like that. You’re all too aware of the fact that this is his land, and that the only reason why he’s saying that is that Hector is a hybrid. If that gets back to Jungkook, it wouldn’t be good for Fred — but you don’t think he’ll go down without a fight. You glance at Hector, who looks as placid as always and offers no help. The gears in your head are turning fast. Before, you were protected by how indispensable you were considered by Mr. X. That is clearly not the case anymore, but Fred likely isn’t aware of that. Yet.

On the other hand, sending Hector away would show weakness, and you can’t afford that.

“Hector goes where I go,” you say.

Fred’s smile widens even more.

“Of course, of course, can’t trust anyone those days, can you?”

You wonder if it’s a jab at you and how quickly you changed sides, but he is more or less in the same position, so you could just be paranoid.

“Come on, come on in, let’s get ourselves a drink.”

You don’t want a drink, but you do follow him in. The sooner you do that, the sooner you will be out of here.

Fred has a lot of things to say. Most of it isn’t relevant to anything that is happening right now, but you’ve never been able to tune things out. You always worry you’ll miss an essential piece of information. So you listen as he babbles about his business — getting weapons in and out of the city, something he is decently good at — but also about his family, his friendships, and his favorite kind of alcohol. You let him pour you a glass, even if you have no intention of touching it.

“I hear you,” you manage to interrupt him, “but I am curious to know why you wanted a meeting with Mr. Jeon. It seems to me that you have the situation here under control.”

Flattery has always worked on Fred, and you have no issue in using that against him.

“Of course we do,” he gloats. “It’s just— There are a lot of rumorsfloating around those days, you know?”

You do know. You suspect Fred has heard the same things as you. You also suspect most people have been very careful not to let those things reach Yoongi’s ears.

“People are talking about a ‘human opposition’ forming,” Fred gasps dramatically. “Can you believe it? Some people are really not happy about being led by a hybrid.”

That seems to be more concrete than what you’ve heard, which means that Fred could be exaggerating things… or that he was contacted to join that opposition. And you don’t like that second possibility, not at all. You trust Fred about as far as you can throw him, and that means you certainly don’t trust him to not try and play both sides.

“That was to be expected,” you reply calmly. “I do not doubt that Mr. Jeon knew such a reaction was coming.”

Fred narrows his eyes at you, trying to gauge what you knew then and what you know now. Which isn’t much, but that’s not something you plan to let slip out.

“Do you know of anything specific?”

You see from the glint in Fred’s eyes that he knows the game is on. If you know something and he doesn’t tell you, he will look suspicious, but he could also reveal too much, and you doubt he wants to play his cards so soon.

“I— don’t, unfortunately,” he finally says, and you nod. Either he hasn’t heard of the Mystery Room, or he is voluntarily hiding it from you. Regardless, that limits how useful he is to you. “But the word on the street is that Jungkook may not know what he’s doing all that well.”

You send him a sharp glance. He’s taking a risk in telling you that, you both know it. That doesn’t make the information any less precious.

“I see. And, again, I don’t suppose you know where this— ‘word on the street’ is coming from?”

He shrugs, a true picture of innocence, and maybe you’d have believed it if Fred hadn’t been in the business for longer than you. He knew, he just wasn’t telling because he wanted to preserve his opportunities if something happened.

“I have to go, then. Thank you for the drink, Mr. Lucas.”

“Please,” he says, holding out his hand. “Call me Fred.”

That won’t be happening.

“Goodbye, Mr. Lucas.”

Once you’re out, you take a second to collect yourself, Hector following like a shadow and waiting for you silently.

“Is everything okay?” he asks after you’ve mulled over the conversation that just happened for several minutes.

“It’s fine,” you say as a reflex. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Fred had taken a gamble when he’d proclaimed his allegiance to Jungkook. He’d bet on him coming out on top, and yet you didn’t trust it. You couldn’t think of a reason why he would do that instead of carefully waiting to see how things would go, like everyone else. You didn’t like this. Not one bit. “We need to get to Mystery Room,” you add.

“Of course,” Hector nods, gesturing towards the limo, and you don’t bother repressing a groan this time.

“God. That’s so tacky.”

That brings a smile to Hector’s lips, but you don’t smile back. You never do. Instead, you climb in, roll your eyes at the whole thing, and let yourself be driven away. You can’t come to a conclusion about Fred Lucas just yet, but you have no intention of forgetting about him either.

It takes you a few seconds, once you’re out of the car, to understand that something isn’t right. You’ve never been good with feelings — instincts, as hybrids call them — and the air doesn’t feel particularly tense or charged to you. Hector stands a little close to you for comfort, and you piece things together from there. There are a few cars around, but not too many, which isn’t surprising considering it’s the middle of the afternoon. Still, you can hear voices from inside, and you know there’s an argument going on there.

“Let’s go,” you say with a decided nod, and Hector leads the way, shoulders tense, ready to pounce if needed. You trust him to do his job, and that’s a lot, coming from you.

You frown when you walk into the bar, taking a few seconds to let your eyes get adjusted to the lack of luminosity, and that frown only deepens when you hear the argument going on and recognize Jungkook’s voice. God. The concepts of subtlety and discretion are completely lost on him, aren’t they?

Making your way through the room, you try to evaluate the situation. Yoongi is leaning against a table, looking bored out of his mind, though you’re sure he doesn’t miss anything from what is going on in the room. As if to prove your point, his golden eyes flick towards you for a second when you approach, before looking away, clearly uninterested. Other than him, it seems that the only other people present are the owner and various employees. You think it’s stupid and dangerous that they showed up here basically alone but, for the millionth time today, you grit your teeth and don’t say anything.

There are five men around, including the bouncer and a security guard. They’re probably armed, and that’s to say nothing of anyone you cannot see. Outside of Yoongi, though, no one pays attention to you, not until the bartender asks loudly “Mojito, as usual, Miss (L/N)?”

It’s a bit early for that, actually, but you give him a nod. The Mystery Room isn’t quite your scene — you’ve always been one to prefer classy restaurants — but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re well-known here, and everywhere, actually, which is something that everyoneknows, except your own boss. That is obvious by the way people’s attitude shifts when they see you. The owner bows to you politely. You acknowledge it with a curt movement of your chin. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. He doesn’t look happy about it.

You wait until you have your glass in your hand to say something. The silence that fills the room is heavy, and you can feel Jungkook’s anger emanating from him, having lost the men’s attention. He’s the man who murdered Mr. X, took over half of his operations without anyone noticing, and their fucking boss, and they’re still treating him like a low-life hybrid.

“You haven’t been paying what you owe us,” you say, almost lightly, when you get your drink. “Has business been slow?”

You know it has. You know people aren’t too sure what to think of Jungkook yet. You also know they’ve still made money. Better yet, you’re sure the men in the room know youknow that. You’re giving them an obvious way out. All they have to do is say “yes”, and you’ll come up with something. You won’t let them go off scot-free, but there’s no need for this to end in a bloodbath, either.

“That’s not the issue,” the man says, voice raspy, and you don’t let it show, of course you don’t, but you’re still taking the hit. They’re underestimating Jungkook.

This might be the last mistake they make.

“I think it would be better for everyone if we could work through whatever issue there is,” you say slowly.

Better for them, really, especially because this is you giving him a second chance. There won’t be a third one.

“I’m afraid we don’t, uh, approve of the recent change in direction,” he replies, a stupid grin on his face. He’s mocking you and your infamous overly procedural speech. You know people say you can’t accept who you’re working for, that you can’t take the idea of having blood on your hands.

You may not care, but you’re well-aware of it, and you really don’t appreciate him saying that to your face. You’ll have to make an example out of him.

You sigh and shake your head at his answer. You’re not going to enjoy this. You’ve seen people’s attempts at rebellion against Mr. X, even if those were few and far between, and no matter how much of a fight they put up, it never ends well. For them.

You’re prepared to just leave the place and arrange for it to be set on fire during the night, when Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of it.

“What’s your problem with the change in direction, fucker?”

The mood changes immediately. Hector’s hand on your shoulder gently pulls you back, and Yoongi hops off the table to come stand next to Jungkook, hands in his pockets. He looks nonchalant and relaxed. He could probably easily kill everyone in this room and not get a drop of blood on his jacket.

The owner squares his shoulders and walks up to him. He’s slightly taller and much larger than Jungkook.

“Listen, bunny…”

You barely have the time to widen your eyes at the word, to think about all the ways Jungkook has made it clear that he’s not your typical rabbit-hybrid before his right hook connects with the man’s jaw, so fast you would have missed it if you’d blinked.

A moment of stunned silence follows, during which the man stumbles backwards, hand coming to cup his face in disbelief. And then, he seems to decide that it’s a good idea to retaliate. The dozens, hundreds maybe, of fights you’ve seen Jungkook win flash before your eyes. He doesn’t stand a chance.

People start moving around you, but it seems like it’s only a fistfight. No guns are drawn, for now, and you’re reminded of how much you fucking hate watching people fight. You take a step back, bored already at this stupid display of strength and violence. Still, you can’t help it when your eyes are drawn to Jungkook. There’s a— curiosity within you. How much has he truly changed, in the past two years?

For one, he certainly isn’t pretending this time, isn’t trying to make this fight last for a few more rounds. There iscertain showmanship there, though, you note. He’s giving time for the owner to recover while he takes out some of the other men with hits of surgical precision. He wants them to seewhatever he’s going to do to their boss. Hector and Yoongi keep the fight contained, don’t let anyone escape or call for help, but Jungkook doesn’t need their help. No one here is a threat to him, and it doesn’t take long for the men to be on the floor, groaning in pain.

The owner pushes himself up, spits some blood on the floor. Jungkook turns to face him and beckons him closer with a flick of his hand. He looks amused.

“You fucking piece of—”

This time, Jungkook doesn’t go for the head. His fist gets the man in the ribs, and that first punch is followed by dozens of others, not giving the man any respite, not letting him breathe. When the man falls back, Jungkook doesn’t stop, though the hits slow down, based on what you can see and hear. You have to clench your jaw to stop yourself from grimacing at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of the bones underneath clashing. It was drowned out, back when he fought in a ring, but knowing it was there disgusted you back. You don’t know why, you just hate it. It makes you sick.

When Jungkook finally gets back up, he hasn’t even broken a sweat. There are five men on the ground, clenching different parts of their bodies and crying out in pain, and he isn’t even out of breath.

“You should fucking reconsider,” he spits out.

They won’t have to. This place will be gone soon enough.

His eyes meet yours as he walks out, and his expression turns to a disgusted scowl. It almost draws a scoff out of you, but you hold it in, and instead, you follow him dutifully.

Jungkook doesn’t speak to you in the car, eyes instead on his bloody knuckles. It will heal fast, you know, and that’s probably why he doesn’t bother taking care of it. When the car stops, you look outside and find yourself faced with your own apartment building. It’s not even five in the afternoon yet. You turn around to give your boss a quizzical look.

“You’re not needed anymore,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound like he’s playing this time, though you’re still sure that he wants to get on your nerves.

You hate that it’s working this time.

“The day isn’t—”

“I think you’ve proved exactly how efficient you are today,” he says, obviously dismissing you. “I have no fucking idea how you got this job.”

You bite your tongue not to reply. You don’t care about the job, you don’t care about his opinion of you, you barely even care about the Family. You should just nod, give him the usual “yes, Mr. Jeon,” and walk out. But something keeps you in place a little longer than it should, and that’s how much you hate jobs that aren’t well done.

Your voice sounds distant to your own ears when you say what you’re supposed to, your body doesn’t feel like your own when you walk out and close the door. Your breathing quickens while you hear the car leave behind you like it’s all happening in a dream, your head spins, and you stand frozen in place, staring right in front of you.

Is this your life now? you wonder, feeling your heart thumping like it’s trying to get out of your chest. Are you going to let yourself be so disposable, so mediocre, let everything you’ve spent years building fall apart? This isn’t the time for pride, you’re well aware of that, but it’s still eating at you inside.

You walk back to your apartment like you’re in a trance. There’s a heavy weight on your chest, and you realize you have to make a choice. If things stay like that, you suppose Jungkook will have your head at some point. This is a fight of patience. One you cannot win. But if you make yourself indispensable, then maybe, maybe you can survive it. You’ve done it once already.

You brush aside the little voice mocking your reasoning, telling you that you’re doing this because you don’t want to lose your status. Not because it’s wrong, but because you know that’s not enough of an incentive for you to take a risk. You need something stronger than that. Even if you know it’s a lie.

That doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you dial Yoongi’s number. You’re happy there’s no one to see you, because God, you couldn’t take your carefully crafted facade crumbling right now.

“Yes?” he answers quickly. If he’s surprised to hear from you, it doesn’t show.

“What are the plans for the Mystery Room?” you ask, satisfied that your voice doesn’t quiver, even if you’re a mess right now.

There’s a silence at the other end of the line, and you suspect he’s considering not answering you, so you take the initiative.

“You need to at least replace the owner,” you say, kicking off your shoes. “You can convince him to sell to us,” — convince, one of your favorite euphemisms — “or get rid of him and get the place from his family. Burning the place down is also an option. We can’t let what happened slide like that.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi says.

“Also, it would better if Mr. Jeon could avoid fighting with people. The last thing we want is people who think they can challenge him.”

“He can take them.”

“That’s not the issue. If people think they have a chance, they’ll keep trying. We don’t want them to do that.”

Another, longer silence.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he’ll listen to you.”

“And you think I will listen to you?”

You roll your eyes. It’s strange, you know you’re gambling your life right now, but the tension you were experiencing earlier has been replaced by an eerie calm. You feel detached from everything.

Maybe you’ve been doing this for too long.

“You don’t have to,” you say, “but this is my job. I’m good at it. If you just let me do it, it would be far more efficient than whatever has been going on for the last week. I know you don’t trust me, but you can probably come to the same conclusions as me in this situation at least.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest. This is an explicit critique, something you would never have risked with Mr. X, and it’s the most open act of defiance that you’ve ever done — and it’s to convince them to let you workfor them.

“We’ll see about that,” he replies dismissively, and your shoulders fall at first, but then he adds, almost reluctantly, “I’ll take what you said into consideration.”

“Good. We also need to talk about tomorrow’s meeting. I’ve gotten some important information about the opposition to Mr. Jeon, and I think—”

As you explain the situation to Yoongi, you feel yourself calming down. Maybe it’s because you’re doing something that’s familiar to you, you’re not sure, but you can breathe again, and that solidifies your conviction that you’re making the right decision.

Finally, you’re ready to take back your life.

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